Hank
by Painbow
Summary: Buffy's dad returns; post Doublemeat Palace; angst, humour
1. Chapter One

Hank 

By "Painbow"

_Summary:_ Buffy's dad returns; S6, post DoubleMeat Palace

_Disclaimer:_ I don't own Hank or Buffy or Spike (::sob::) or Dawn. Actually, I don't own any of the characters...yet! Mwahahaha! ::ahem::

_A/N:_ Ok, ok...I hate Hank like any good Buffy fan. But I was always interested in him as a character...like one is interested in some kind of bug...or possibly fungus. So I decided to give him the benefit of the doubt and see where it would go. Don't worry, this is not a story that idolizes him, or allows him to get away with the whole deadbeat thing, but I did want to humanize him a little...he seemed to really love Buffy and then BAM! no longer on the show. So I'm writing a story that at least gives him a little dignity. He will get lumps, cause no one gets away with abandoning children like that, but I really wanted to make him at least a little human. So, there, that's my reason...

* * *

Buffy lay in bed. It had been four weeks since Giles left, and things were...

Who would have thought everything would go downhill so fast? Who could have known how much Giles did to keep the group together? Who could have guessed that without Giles' calming and levelheaded presence everything would get so bad?

Willow was addicted to magic, Dawn was hurt and barely speaking to her, there were nerds on the loose, and she wasn't sure about herself...the relationship she was having with Spike...it was disturbing her. She was doing awful things, but she couldn't seem to stop. Everything was just so messed up.

It was hard not to cling to the idea that if Giles were here everything would be fine, that he'd clean his glasses and make everything work. As Buffy lay in bed staring at the ceiling she knew. If her father figure hadn't left her, like all the other men in her life, things would be better. She wouldn't be screwing up as a parent, sister, friend, and girlfr—slayer. Her life was just one huge train wreck.

She turned her head to look at the phone. Her hand began moving towards it of it's own accord. _What time is it in England? 11pm? Later? I wonder if he'd be awake..._

Buffy stopped herself. Giles wouldn't want to hear from her. And what could she tell him anyway? _"Hey Giles! You thought I was adult enough to take care of myself...well, funny story..."_

Buffy rolled over away from the phone. Calling Giles wouldn't help. He'd made it clear he was tired of dealing with her crap, that he didn't want to be in Sunnydale anymore. So why make him feel obligated to return?

Secretly Buffy knew why she wouldn't call. What if he said no? What if he refused to come back? _"Sorry, Buffy, but you're not worth it. I have my own life now, and I don't care to uproot to come deal with yours." _

It was the reason. Buffy knew deep down that it wasn't circumstance or fate or even coincidence that made men leave. It was her.

A tear rolled down her cheek. She clenched her fists and her face and no further tears fell. She was the Slayer and she could deal with this. It just meant being the Slayer. She needed to meet problems head on and deal with them with no emotional entanglements. She could do it!

Buffy rolled on to her back again and began to stare at the ceiling. There was a tiny crack of paint near the light that looked just like something she vaguely remembered from Heaven. Buffy lay there, staring at it, until she was interrupted by Dawn storming out of the house.

* * *

Buffy practically limped home after her double shift at the Doublemeat Palace. Sixteen hours should just not be allowed. Managers also shouldn't be allowed to spring them on you at the last minute...and should possibly be thrown in the meat grinder for doing so.

As she walked past Restfield, she indulged in another mental list of all the things wrong with her crappy life. Her failures as a guardian and provider took her all the way to the front steps of her house. Her failures as a friend, in the door and up the stairs to the shower. Her failures in love the entirety of her shower, and her failures as a slayer the entire time she dried off and changed.

She headed down the stairs to get something to eat, realizing that they probably didn't have much of anything in the house. Perusal of the refrigerator proved that very thing, and Buffy made do with leftover anchovy pizza and water.

Buffy sat at the counter, munching on her pizza dispassionately. Between bites she would stare at the fridge, as if it held the answers to all her problems. Of course, the fact that it held nothing _was_ one of her problems.

A repeating noise broke through her daze. Woodpecker? No. Sounded like knocking. Buffy sighed. With her luck it'd be some huge Scooby emergency and she'd have to pretend to care. Bleh.

She put what was left of her pizza down wearily and shuffled to the front door on sore feet. Vaguely she wondered where Dawn was, but was distracted again by the knocking on the front door.

"Ok, I'm coming!" She sighed. "Very tired slayer here."

Grabbing the handle, she opened the door. She gripped the handle harder, causing the metal to become indented. In front of her stood the _last_ person she thought she'd see.

* * *

Buffy stared.

Buffy stared some more.

Hank smiled.

"Dad..." she began, still trying to come to terms with the man standing on her front doorstep. Well, she had been wishing this morning for her father figure to return...of _course_ the Powers that Whatever sent her Hank instead of the infinitely more useful Giles. Of course...

"Sweetheart," said Hank, smiling. "How have you been?"

Buffy stared again for good measure.

"Well," she finally replied, "isn't that a great question."

Hank had the decency, albeit delayed, to look embarrassed. "I know it's a helluva question, what with your mother being ill, but I finally got the message, sweetie. I'm here to help."

Buffy's brain shut down. He didn't know. How could he not? But he didn't. There he stood, looking cheerful and helpful...and something else ending in ful and he wanted to help. It was like her dream from a year ago. And now, on top of everything else, she had to tell her father that her mother had died last year, come next month.

It was a surprise to her when she was suddenly looking up at her father, who looked concerned. God, she hadn't seen that look for her since...in a long, long time. The last thing she remembered that night was her father calling her name, looking worried and loving and so much like a dad. Her dad.

* * *

Buffy woke. Sun was streaming through the windows, birds were chirping in the trees, and Dawn was creeping into her room. Buffy opened her eyes.

"Dawn?"

"Oh...you're awake."

"Yeah." Buffy vaguely remembered a dream she'd had the night before. He father had come home to help out her and Dawn. She couldn't decide if it was a good dream or a nightmare.

"Do you girls want pancakes?" a voice called from downstairs. Buffy tensed.

Dawn saw her reaction and sat on the edge of the bed. "I know. I came in last night. He said you'd gone to bed. I sorta stared and then ran to my room. What's he doing here?"

Buffy sighed. "He wants to help with Mom's illness."

Dawn gaped, eyes filling with tears. "He—he doesn't know, does he?"

"No," said Buffy softly.

"Oh," said Dawn in a choked voice. She looked down at the comforter.

They sat together on the bed in silence. Hank's voice rose from the kitchen again. "Girls? You awake? We should get breakfast, and then go visit your mother!"

Buffy frowned, jaw tightening. "Fine," she said quietly. She sat up.

"Buffy, what are you doing?"

"I'm getting up. We're going to eat breakfast with dad, and then go visit Mom."


	2. Chapter Two

Hank 

By "Painbow"

_Summary:_ Buffy's dad returns; S6, post DoubleMeat Palace

_Disclaimer:_ I don't own Hank or Buffy or Spike (::sob::) or Dawn. Actually, I don't own any of the characters…yet! Mwahahaha! ::ahem::

**

* * *

**

**Chapter 2**

Hank stared down at the tombstone of his late ex-wife. When Buffy had said they were going to visit Joyce he had assumed they were going to the hospital. He had also assumed that the grim look on his eldest's face was because of his long absence, not his ignorance of Joyce's true condition.

How could he have known?

_Well, if you hadn't been so_ busy _in Spain_... a treacherous little voice began. He pushed it out of his thoughts. That wasn't important. He couldn't change the past. He wasn't sure if he wanted to. Well, he did wish that he'd responded to the message regarding Joyce's illness a little sooner...but back on subject.

His ex wife was dead. It pained him to look at the granite stone marking her resting place. Even thought they had split on bad terms, Hank had never hated Joyce. Not really. There were times during the divorce that he wanted to jump across the mediation table and strangle her, but he realized now that even when he had been angry with her, he had never truly hated her. He couldn't. In the last five years he hadn't really given her or his girls more then a passing thought. Too busy having fun, living the middle-aged stereotype. He felt a flash of guilt. Living it up in Spain while Joyce had been dying. He was an ass.

Well, now it was time to stop acting like he hadn't aged since twenty. It was time to actually be a figure in his girl's lives. It looked like things were not going well at all.

Both Dawn and Buffy looked thin...much thinner then when he had last seen them. Buffy in particular looked like she hadn't been eating much. Of course, some of that could be due to the weary look in her eyes. There were dark circles on Buffy's face that hadn't been there the last time he'd seen her. She looked like she'd had to do some growing up. Fast.

Dawnie...well, she looked lonely and sad and angry. She also looked confused, which he'd heard was the normal state for a teenager, so he wasn't as worried about that.

And besides their emotional and physical state, there was the financial. Buffy, from what he'd managed to ferret out of her, was working at the Doublemeat Palace to make ends meet. A friend of hers was living with them and contributing to some of the bills, but Hank knew it wasn't enough.

He could only hope that his girls would _let_ him help with their problems. Well, it was obvious they didn't have a lot of choices. They'd accept his help, no problem.

Hank felt better. The small monkey that had perched on his back for the last few years was gone. He was finally doing the right thing, and from the looks of it he was just in time.

* * *

Dawn fumed in the car. Her dad had just stared at her mom's grave, open mouthed, like some stupid fish. No words, no tears, just an open mouth. Years of marriage and years of looking after things and all her mom got was an open mouth. Bastard.

Well, Dawn knew _exactly_ how to handle this situation. Hank's wallet just _had _to be full of money. She'd take what she could find, give it to Buffy slowly, so as not to arouse suspicion, and then they could kick the bastard out. Leave him like he had left them, so many years ago.

Hell, she didn't owe the guy anything. He wasn't _really_ her father, mystical, glowy key and all. For as long as she'd really been alive and human, he hadn't been around. As far as she was concerned, Hank was just some guy who hurt her family and left, like Ted. Not her father. She didn't have a father.

Buffy fumed, much like her sister. Her fuming, however, was far less coherent. There were no plans, no answers, just a litany: _Why is he back? How could he come back? How could he leave in the first place? What the HELL is he doing here? Does he think he can just waltz back into our lives? Why didn't he come back sooner... _It played over and over in her head, making her crazy and causing her arms to cross tighter and tighter across her chest.

The drive home was made in silence.

* * *

Awkward. That was the only word running through Hank Summer's head. Awkward.

He hadn't expected his return to be easy by any stretch, but, well...was it too much to ask that his girls be a little excited that he was home? Neither one had spoken to him any more then was absolutely necessary. So he hung around, trying to make conversation, and being generally...awkward.

Since things were so uncomfortable, he decided to make himself useful. Once they returned home, he started cleaning the house, re-organizing everything. He thought this would make the girls happy, but Buffy hadn't even noticed and Dawn had glared at him, mumbling something under her breath that sounded remarkably like, "_Mom_ never did it that way."

Cleaning a failure, Hank decided to cook some Spanish food that Sherri, his ex girlfriend, had taught him, while they'd been in Spain together. The meal had not been spectacularly difficult, but neither daughter did more then pick at it listlessly (in Buffy's case) or angrily (in Dawn's). Was it too much to expect them to pretend to like it? He was trying...he just didn't know what to do.

Hank motioned for the girls to eat. The food was good...he knew it was good and he didn't want it to go to waste. He wanted his girls to start eating properly again.

Dawn glared at him, eyes flashing as he tried to smile at her like a father would, or like he hoped a father would. It had been so long...

Apparently too long, as his Dawnie had jumped up from the table and stormed out of the kitchen. He heard her feet thumping as she ran up the stairs. He winced when he heard the door slam.

Hank sighed at his plate. "I guess Dawnie just doesn't like Spanish food." He smiled weakly, trying to turn the comment into a weak joke. He looked up at Buffy, trying to gauge her reaction to both Dawn's outburst and his attempt at humor.

His eldest sat in her seat, perfectly still, staring at her plate. She hadn't even noticed the scene Dawn had made. Hank frowned. "Buffy?" His daughter continued to stare at her food, barely even blinking.

Hank studied Buffy, looking for some physical reason for her daze. Was she be using drugs? What else could possibly depress the perky daughter he had once known?

A noise at the kitchen door interrupted Hank's thoughts, and he looked up to see a cute red head walk in. _This must be Willow,_ he thought. He hadn't had a chance to meet his daughter's friend yet. Actually, he wasn't even sure if Willow knew he was here. Buffy had mentioned that she was living with them, but not much else.

But, damn, wasn't she cute...he shook his head. No more of that. Time was he would have been all over Willow in a second, and would have had a fairly good chance of landing her too, but now it was time to focus on his family.

Willow stopped when she saw him, a look of confusion and vague recognition on her face. "Mr. Summers?" she asked.

Hank stood up, big, welcoming smile plastered on his face. "Hello Willow, nice to meet you. Yes, I am Mr. Summers, though I'd rather you called me Hank." He flashed her another winning smile and held out his hand.

Willow continued to look confused and then stared at the proffered hand. He mouth tightened. "We thought you were in Spain," she said, a trifle coldly.

He pulled his hand back a bit, trying to make it look like he was reaching for something in his pocket. "Well, I was." He tried to keep the grin on his face and put Willow at ease. He really wanted to get along with Buffy's friends. "If you want I can show you some pictures later. Spain is really beautiful. Or I can teach you how to make some Spanish food that Sherri taught me..." _Oh, for the love of...stop babbling, Hank!_

Willow's lips tightened further and she crossed her arms in front of her chest. She glared at Hank for a few more seconds before turning to Buffy. "Hey, Buf? You gotta get going or you'll be late for work."

Buffy jerked out of her daze and looked up at Hank and Willow. "Hmm? Oh, right...work."

Willow sighed worriedly and left the kitchen, heading up stairs. Hank watched as his daughter's gaze returned to the food in front of her.

"Buffy...sweetie? Umm...are you ok?" He surreptitiously checked for needle marks.

Buffy looked up at that, eyes finally showing some emotion. Hank took and involuntary step back. She let out a short, humorless laugh. "Fine _daddy. _I have to go to work."

She got up and left Hank standing in the kitchen, surrounded by the remains of dinner. He looked around the room. "I'll just clean up then," he said, to no one in particular.


	3. Chapter Three

**Hank**

By "Painbow"

_Summary:_ Buffy's dad returns; S6, post DoubleMeat Palace

_Disclaimer:_ I don't own Hank or Buffy or Spike (::sob::) or Dawn. Actually, I don't own any of the characters...yet! Mwahahaha! ::ahem::

* * *

**Chapter 3**

Buffy walked through Restfield cemetery, combining the trip home from work with a quick patrol. Well, the patrol was quick in theory, but in practice it was taking rather longer. Buffy was in no hurry to return home.

She still didn't know what to make of her father being back. Part of her was raging, asking why she hadn't asked him to take a flying leap yet. Part of her was just glad that she now had someone who could help her make ends meet, however this part was wary. She wasn't sure how long Hank would actually stick around. The final part of her was the teenager who missed her father and still desperately wanted his approval and love. Hank came that mean that even when they left they didn't always stay gone?

Buffy sensed a presence behind her and sighed. Sometime it might be nice if some of them _would_ stay gone...

"What, Spike?" She was in no mood for him tonight. She didn't want innuendo and games and crazy mixed signals. She wanted someone to talk to that could help her sort out her problem, and Spike was not that person.

"Well, hello to you too, luv," he shot back, smirking.

"Look, Spike, this is just a _really_ bad time, ok?"

"A bad time?" Spike stalked closer, leering. "A bad time for what?"

She pushed him away. "Look, Spike, don't start. I have a lot of stuff happening right now. I don't need this."

"This? This what? And how can you have more things happening then before? Willow go off the deep end again?" Spike raised an eyebrow.

"No," said Buffy, rolling her eyes. "Look, my father just got into town, and he's staying with us, so...what?" Buffy noticed a change in Spike's posture.

"You're father's back in town?" asked Spike, eyes flashing, fists clenched.

Buffy was starting to get worried. "Yeah..."

"The wanker who left you, Dawn, and your mum all alone, and then never even sent so much as a bloody card when Joyce died?"

"Well...yeah, but Spike he—"

"Right." Spike strode in the direction of the Summers' residence.

Buffy stared after him before realizing his intentions. "Spike! No!" She chased after him.

* * *

Buffy ran through the kitchen door to find Spike holding her father up by the collar against the far wall. He was growling obscenities at the man, and Hank was definitely cowering.

"How _dare _you abandon the Slayer like that! Her and the Nibblet, you pathetic excuse for a maggot! You've got some balls coming back!" He snarled, leaning closer to Hank's face.

Buffy came running up behind Spike, pulling on his shoulder. "Spike! Put him down!"

Spike turned his snarl at Buffy. "What!? You're defending this wanker, after what he did to you and Dawn!? You should be helpin' me toss him out!" Spike turned back to Hank. He pushed the man harder into the wall, flinching a little as the chip reminded him it was still very much active.

"Spike! Put him down!" Buffy dragged his arm away from her father's neck.

Spike dropped Hank and whirled on Buffy. "Why're you defending him? He left, Buffy! You should be tossing him out on his ass." Spike watched her expression for a moment, jaw tightening. "But then, you do seem to have a thing for the one who leave, don't you?" He pushed away from Buffy and strode out the door, duster flapping behind him.

Buffy watched him go, unsure whether to be touched at Spike's concern or angry that he threatened her father. She decided to go with what had worked best for her in the past and glowered at Spike's back as it swaggered away from the house. She rushed over to her father, who was sitting on the floor, mouth open, looking very undignified. She heard a snicker from the doorway and saw a flash of light-brown hair, as footsteps pattered up the stairs. Buffy sighed.

"You ok, Dad?"

Hank looked up at her. "Um...yeah, thanks sweetie. I'll be ok, I think." He looked like he was scrambling for something to say. "Well, he was an...angry young man, wasn't he?"

Buffy sat back on her heels, staring. Sometimes she wondered, she really wondered, if her father lived on the same plain of existence as the rest of the planet.

* * *

Hank rubbed his neck as he headed up the stairs to the hastily prepared guest room. The encounter with, Spike, was it, had left him shaken. He'd seen in Spike's eyes what he knew his girls felt, but had secretly hoped they didn't: rage.

His girls were angry with him for leaving and they were angry with him for coming back. The way that Buffy had just rolled her eyes at him and walked away after the encounter had left little doubt in his mind.

He could see their point, he really could, but they needed to get past that. If he was going to help them, they needed to accept his help. It had to be a two-way street. He couldn't be the only one giving. If it was going to be like that, he might as well just leave now.

Hank sat down on the cot in what he figured must have once been Joyce's office. The entire room was full of artwork that she would have chosen. There were a lot of Tribal masks, especially the ones that Hank had always found disconcerting but Joyce had always liked. What would she do in his situation?

He hadn't been even a part-time Dad since Buffy was fifteen, and even then he hadn't been a very good one. He did remember one thing that had made Buffy's face crack into a huge grin...shopping.

Tomorrow he would take his girls to the mall and buy them both new clothes and groceries and whatever else they were lacking. Perhaps if he could just show them that he still cared about both of them they would begin to forgive his leaving. A little voice inside him, that spent a good portion of the time unheeded, piped up. _You can't buy them off, Hank. You left your girls and they'll never forgive you for it._

Hank pushed the voice away. Of course they would. All his girls needed was time and pampering and they'd forget all about it.


	4. Chapter Four

**Hank **

By "Painbow"

_Summary:_ Buffy's dad returns; S6, post DoubleMeat Palace

_Disclaimer:_ I don't own Hank or Buffy or Spike (::sob::) or Dawn. Actually, I don't own any of the characters...yet! Mwahahaha! ::ahem::

_A/N:_ Thanks to spikeNdru, the bestest beta a person could ever have. She got my chapter back to me over night! _Over. Night._

Also thanks to everyone who's reviewed. I really appreciate it! I _love_ feedback and it's nice to know people are enjoying my story and that it's not just floating about on the internet ether...

* * *

**Chapter 4**

Hank had everything all laid out. He was going to wake the girls in a moment and they were going to head to the mall. Then he was going to take them out for lunch someplace where they didn't serve burgers, and afterwards they'd go shopping. Perfect.

He was about ready to head upstairs when Willow walked into the room. She'd been avoiding him ever since they'd meet in the kitchen. Part of him was relieved, as she had made him very uncomfortable with her cold manner, but part of him also wanted to get to know her better, for Buffy's sake.

He smiled. "Hello, Willow."

Willow grunted something that could be interpreted as "hello" and sat down on the couch with a book, ignoring him. Hank sighed.

"Look, Willow, I...uh...wanted to talk to you."

Willow's back tensed. She sighed and then put the book in her lap. Folding her arms, she glared a little. "What about."

It wasn't really a question. Willow knew perfectly well what Hank wanted to talk about. She also wanted to make life difficult for him. Childish, maybe, but the guy was an ass and she wasn't entirely certain why he was still here.

"About Buffy...I'm...I'm worried about her."

Willow raised her eyebrows. "Really."

"Of course I am!" Hank looked flustered. "She's barely here! She moves around the place like she's dead!"

Willow's eyes narrowed. "Oh, she does, does she? Cause I happen to think she's doing a lot better."

"She was worse?" Willow nodded. "Is it..." Hank lowered his voice, "is it _drugs_?"

Willow turned red. "Drugs!? You think its drugs! _Buffy's_ not addicted to anything! She's depressed, and if you had been around when Joyce died or Giles left, or she d—this summer, you would know! But you've been off in Spain, living the life of fun with your secretary an—and learning how to make tostadas! All the while Buffy and Dawnie are alone and hurting and having no money!" Willow's mouth opened once more, like she was about to keep going, but the look on Hank's face caught her off guard. She had expected defensiveness. Defensiveness was not what she saw.

Hank sat down hard. "You're right," he sighed.

Willow's eyes narrowed further. "You're not going to get out of this by saying I'm right."

"I know."

"Well...good."

"I just...I just wanted to see my girls again. Pick up where I left off. I didn't expect _this_." He gestured around the living room like it held all the problems he was facing with Dawn and Buffy.

"So you expected everything to be the same. That Buffy and Dawn wouldn't be angry with you for leaving them."

"I...I don't know what I expected. I hoped they wouldn't hate me."

Willow sighed. "Look, Mr. Summers—"

"Call me Hank."

"Look, Mr. Summers, I don't really like you, but then I'm the best friend. I get to hate you for both Buffy and me. Frankly, I don't know if you'll ever be able to make up for taking off."

"Well, I want to."

"Uh huh. And what happens when another secretary comes along? Will you pick up again and leave?"

Hank was finally frustrated. He was trying to explain himself to Willow, but she just didn't want to listen. "Look! I'm here now and I want to help! Yes, I left! Yes, it was bad! But I want to do the right thing now."

"For how long?" asked Willow, quietly.

Hank turned and walked out of the room, calling up the stairs as he went. "Buffy! Dawnie! Let's go! Daddy-sponsored shopping trip!"

Buffy stood in the doorway to the kitchen, staring at her hands. She had heard most of the argument between her father and Willow and she couldn't help but wonder: how long would Hank stick around for?

* * *

The three Summers walked through the mall doors and out of the dreary weather. It had decided to rain about half way to the mall and none of them were dressed for it. Hank shook water out of his coat.

"Well, we're here."

Dawn's eyes lit up, though she didn't let Hank see. It had been a while since she had been to the mall, let alone with her sister, and she intended to make full use of Hank's credit card...as well as her other talents.

Buffy stared straight ahead. She hadn't been shopping in so long, but there was something weird about being in the mall. It was surreal, mostly because of the man standing next to her.

Hank looked at each of his daughters in turn. He notice Dawn's brief look of joy, covered by a mask of teenage indifference. He allowed himself a small smile. He turned to Buffy and the smile faded. Her eyes were blank. Damn! He thought that if anything would make her perk up, it'd be shopping. It was time for drastic measures.

"Buffy, sweetie, they're having a sale on shoes..."

Buffy turned to look at him, smiling a little. "Really? Where?"

Hank pointed at the store that boasted 'Buy one pair of boots, get the second half-off.' "You want to check it out?"

Buffy smiled up at her father. "Sure dad, let's check it out. Will you be ok on your own, Dawnie?"

Dawn rolled here eyes. "I am fifteen you know."

Hank grinned at her. 'Meet you back at the food court, sweetie?"

"Yeah, sure, whatever," said Dawn and watched as Hank and her sister headed towards the shoe store.

Dawn crossed her arms. She was glad they were gone. It meant she could do her own thing without Hank watching in, trying to be cheerful. She glared at her father's back one more time before turning in the direction of the more expensive retail stores...and running into in to a solid black wall.

"Oof!"

"Nibblet."

"Spike? What are you doing here?" Dawn looked up at him, rubbing her shoulder.

Spike glared at the store boasting the sale sign. "Just keeping tabs on my women."

Dawn scoffed. "Your women? Does Buffy know you consider her 'your woman' and that you're totally stalking her again?"

Spike looked sharply at Dawn. "I'm not stalking! I'm keeping' tabs...it's completely different! And it's not just on Buffy."

Dawn quickly looked away. "Whatever...wanna go spend Hank's money with me?"

Spike stared at her for a moment and then shrugged. "Yeah, alright."

* * *

Hank walked in through the kitchen door, soaking wet and loaded down with bags. His girls had sure spent a lot of money today, though he didn't think it had the desired effect. He'd run into Dawn much later at the makeup counter, putting black nail polish on that friend of Buffy's whom he'd had the 'disagreement' with.

He'd asked her how the shopping was going and she had just said "fine" with a glare, turning back to her friend, Spike he'd remembered later, and her manicure.

Spike had turned to him, raising his eyebrows in a clear 'go away' gesture.

He'd caught up with Buffy again, at a different shoe store this time, mumbling about the boots she was trying on.

"Sure they're stylish, but are they affordable?"

"Don't worry about that, honey. It's on me."

Buffy had looked up and smiled wanly. "Thanks dad." He was almost sure it had been said without sarcasm.

And when they'd all finally met up in the food court, he'd noticed that Dawn, thankfully without Spike, was carrying a wrapped gift that she was trying to hide from her sister...

Buffy's birthday! He didn't know what she had planned for the night, but he needed to find out if there was an ice show happening and get tickets. If he was going to be in her life again he was going to do it right.

* * *

Dawn closed the door to her room and put down her many bags. She'd cleaned up today, no doubt. Of course, Spike's presence, as fun as it was, had made it really difficult to pull off her other plans for the shopping trip. She'd seen him looking at her reproachfully as she attempted to pocket a pair of earrings. She'd looked him right in the eyes and paid for them with Hank's card. They left the store before Spike said anything.

"You've got sticky fingers, Bit."

She'd glared at him for a moment, not sure what to say. "Yeah, and?"

"Could get you into trouble."

"I manage." Awkward silence. She'd looked down. "Spike...you're my friend, right?"

He'd looked surprised. "'Course I am, Nibblet." He gave her a hard look. "What makes you ask?"

"No reason, I just..."

"Don't want me to tell big sis?"

She'd wanted to say that no, that wasn't the reason at all. That she wanted to know that there was at least one person out there who noticed that not everything was okay. But she'd just sighed and told him yes...and got the feeling that he didn't totally buy it.

She'd been sure to get Spike's opinion on the gift she was picking out for Buffy.

"'S a nice jacket, Platelet. But you don't need to go all out. She'd probably like something more personal."

"What's more personal than leather?" She'd blushed at Spike's quirked eyebrow. "Ok, fine, don't answer that, but I have no idea what else to get her! No one will help!"

"'M helpin'. Get her something that's not related to killin' demons."

"Leather's not related."

Spike looked down at his coat. Dawn rolled her eyes.

Dawn smiled as she looked at the wrapped package on her bed. Spike had been helpful. When he'd sneered good-naturedly at her choice she'd known it was the right thing to get.

Dawn reached into the pocket of her jacket and pulled out a wad of bills and a piece of notepaper. Bought tonnes of stuff on Hank's credit card? Check. Emptied his wallet when returning said card? Check. Wrote down credit card number for future online use? Check. Spike was right. Sticky fingers could get her into trouble...so she was graduating.


	5. Chapter Five

**Hank **

By "Painbow"

_Summary:_ Buffy's dad returns; S6, post DoubleMeat Palace

_Disclaimer:_ I don't own Hank or Buffy or Spike (::sob::) or Dawn. Actually, I don't own any of the characters...yet! Mwahahaha! ::ahem::

_A/N:_ Thanks again to the people who reviewed! And don't worry...Buffy's Birthday (not in this chapter, but soon...) will be...interesting ::eg:: They're going to have a lovely gathering where they discuss etiquette over brie and a piquant white wine and...hey! Where'd everyone go? ::g::

Also, this is the chapter where I deal with the events of "Dead Things." Just a friendly warning, because that episode squicks a lot of people (or makes them die a little inside).

* * *

**Chapter 5**

She had done it. She had killed a human. It was all her fault.

Buffy stood at the door to Dawn's room, looking at her sister. She'd be ok now that their dad was back. He could take care of her.

Buffy sat down on the edge of Dawn's bed. Her sister stirred a little, coming awake.

"Hey," said Buffy quietly.

Dawn looked at her sister, not quite awake. "What time is it?"

Buffy looked at her sister, smiling sadly. "It's late. I just wanted," she paused. "You know I love you, right?"

Dawn frowned. "What's wrong?"

Buffy was trying not to cry. Giving up her sister? But she had to. She had to do the right thing. "I know I haven't been everything I should be...everything Mom was..." Buffy lost the battle not to cry and. "I love you. I always will."

Dawn looked confused and upset. "Why are you talking like this? Buffy?"

Buffy looked down at her hands. "There was an accident. In the woods. A girl...she was hurt. I hurt someone."

Dawn's eyes widened. "Oh my god? Is she all right?"

"No." Buffy looked up at her sister. "I'm sorry."

Dawn stared at her, mouth open. _Buffy killed someone_, running over and over through her head. Her sister was speaking again.

"I have to tell what I did. I have to go to the police."

_The police! Not again!_ Dawn was shocked out of her thoughts. "The police?"

"Dawnie, I have to."

"But, what's going to happen?" Of course she knew, but she hoped that this was all just a bad dream and if she followed the script maybe she would wake up and it'd all be over. Hank would be gone, Joyce would be making pancakes downstairs and Buffy would be complaining about a missing sweater, never having died in the first place. Under the covers, Dawn pinched her leg. Buffy said something. _She didn't know?_ Of course she knew!

"They'll take you away, won't they!"

"I'm sorry." Buffy was, she had to get it through to Dawn, but she could see the anger and pain written on her sister's face. Why couldn't she understand? She _had_ to do this.

"No you're not! You're never here!" Finally it was clear to Dawn. "You can't even stand to be around me!" Her sister would rather be in prison then stay with her. She was going to leave her with Hank, the man who left when things got bad.

"That's not true!"

"You don't want to be here with me. You didn't want to come back. I know that. You were happier where you were...you want to go away again!" She lay down, back to her sister.

"Dawn..."

The door opened and Hank's sleep-tousled head leaned through. "Girls, what's going on in here?" Hank noticed that his eldest was dressed as if she were going out. "Buffy?"

"Nothing, dad, go back to bed."

Dawn sat up again. "Nothing?! You're leaving again and it's nothing! Why don't _you_ ask her _dad_? Ask her where she's going? Ask her why?"

Hank was confused. "Buffy, what's this—"

"Oh, but come on, Hank!" Dawn had jumped up from bed, fists clenched, glaring at her family. "You know things aren't normal in this house. Haven't you noticed? Buffy's always in a daze, out at all hours of the night, always tired, always looks beat up. You're not stupid enough to think that she's okay are you? Or are you just as dense as Mom was?"

Buffy took a step forward and slapped Dawn, sending her to the floor. "Don't EVER speak about Mom like that." Dawn glared up at her, clutching her cheek, tears running down her face. Buffy looked horrified. "Oh god! Dawnie!" She reached out to her sister. Dawn pulled away.

Buffy stepped back, staring at her sister. "I told you. I have to go..." Buffy turned to the door only to be blocked by Hank.

"Buffy! What is going on! How could you hit your sister like that?"

"I...I just have to go, dad, okay?"

Hank grabbed her shoulders. "No! I'm your father and you will explain this to me!"

Buffy's eyes flashed. "My father? Since when? How long did you wait after your girlfriend dumped you to come find us?"

Hank looked like she'd punched him. "Buffy, I just want to help."

"Then get out of my way." Buffy pushed her father and he went flying across the room, luckily landing on Dawn's bed. "I have to go," Buffy repeated.

Hank stared at the door long after Buffy had left. He turned to his youngest. "Dawnie, are you okay?"

Dawn glared up at him. "Like you care. I'm going to Spike's." Dawn quickly threw on a jacket and climbed out the window.

Hank sat in the middle of her bed. When did things get so complicated? Right, when he'd come back.

Hank rubbed his arm where Buffy had pushed him and got up from the bed. He walked into the guest room and looked longingly at his suitcase. Things would be so easy if he just packed up and left. He suspected his girls would be happier too.

He sat down heavily on the bed, eyes still firmly on his suitcase. He could go back to Spain, find some lovely lady to take his mind off his troubles and...

He shook his head. He couldn't. He had come back to the States to be with his girls and leaving right when things got tough, okay tougher, would put him right back at square one: Deadbeat Dad Hank. He didn't want to be that Hank anymore. Spending time with Buffy and Dawn had made him realize that all those years he'd been missing something. Well, he was damned if he was going to let it get away again. Hank stood up from his bed, slipped on a jacket, and made his way downstairs, ready to find Dawn.

He was about to go out the back when he heard a knock on the front door. Frowning, he went to open it to reveal a woman, smiling shyly through her hair.

"Hey Buffy, I—" She stopped. "O-oh. Um...is Buffy there?"

"Hi..."

"Tara."

"Hi, Tara. Actually Buffy just went out...I'm not quite sure when she'll be home. I'm Hank, her father."

Tara was speechless. This was the man she'd listened to Willow rant about? The one who left and didn't come back?

"I was just about to go out looking for Dawn...we had a bit of a...disagreement tonight."

Tara looked worried. "Do you know when she left?"

"Not too long ago. She said she was going to Spike's, wherever that is. I was going to go look for her."

Tara relaxed slightly. "Well, I-I'll just come back when Buffy gets home. Tara looked nervously up the stairs."

"Oh, no need. She'll be back soon, I'm sure of it." Hank grinned, trying to show a confidence he didn't feel. "Willow's out studying, so I wouldn't mind someone staying incase Dawn or Buffy comes back."

Tara relaxed visibly. Hank decided she had just been waiting for an invitation. "I should be back soon. Where does this Spike live?"

Tara's eyes widened. Did Hank know about Buffy? Did he know about Spike? She decided to play it safe. "You'll probably find him at the Bronze. It's the local nightclub? He's usually there."

Hank smiled. "Thanks. Hopefully she's already on her way home."

Tara forced another smiled, knowing that Dawn probably wasn't.

* * *

Buffy stumbled in through the front door. She looked at her hands. So, she was innocent. Then why did she feel so guilty?

She looked up through tears and saw Tara coming towards her, a concerned look on her face.

"Tara," Buffy half smiled.

"Buffy...what happened? Is it Dawn?"

Buffy choked back a sob. "Dawn, Dad, Spike...everyone."

"Buffy, sit down." Tara led her over to the couch.

Buffy looked up at her. "Tara, what's wrong with me? You did those tests right? Am I..."

"Buffy, sweetie, you're not a demon, if that's what you're worried about."

"I'm not?"

"No. Your cells were changed somehow by the resurrection spell, that's all. Probably just enough to fool Spike's chip..." At the mention of Spike Buffy sobbed again. "Buffy...did...did he hurt you?"

Buffy laughed bitterly. "Did he hurt me? Ha. Tara...how can I not be a demon?"

"Of course you're not!"

"But...why am I doing these things? There has to be a reason. Why did I hurt them? Why do I let Spike do those things to me?"

"You mean hit you?"

Buffy looked down.

"Oh..."

* * *

Hank came in through he back. He'd found the Bronze, but he hadn't seen anyone who looked like Spike or Dawn. He sighed worriedly and hoped both his daughters were okay.

He heard voices coming from the living room. He moved closer to hear better. Recognizing Buffy's voice, he allowed himself to relax a little.

"...Why do I let Spike do those things to me?" Hank froze. _What?!_

"You mean hit you?"

Hank turned around and walked right back out the door.

* * *

He was furious. How _dare_ that man treat his daughter so? Now he knew _exactly_ why she was so depressed all the time. Her boyfriend...her boyfriend beat her! Well, he was going to find this Spike guy and he was going to show him that _no one_ treated his little girl like that.

Of course, Hank wasn't completely stupid. He remembered the first encounter he'd had with the guy. Being lifted up by your throat wasn't something you easily forgot, so he was heading to the police station first. Get some backup to help him put this guy away. For good.

Hank was so absorbed in his mental fantasy of just where the police would shove their nightsticks that he almost didn't hear the sounds from the alley. He stopped for a second, ready to run should the need arise. He'd notice that there were an awful lot of muggings that resulted in fatalities in Sunnydale.

He heard a groan. Perhaps he'd walked in on one?

"She really took you down, buddy." Hank didn't recognize the voice, but the speaker sounded concerned.

"I'll be fine after a pint. Just help me get to my crypt."

"Alright man, but..."

Hank's vision turned red. It was _him_.

He charged into the alley, ready to give the punk asshole a piece of his mind...until he saw the condition the punk asshole was in.

Spike limped from the alley, arm around some guy with a _really_ bad skin condition. They stopped when they saw him and Spike grinned, or tried to through his swollen lips.

"Well, if it isn't Daddy."

The other man looked worried. "Look, Spike, you're in no shape to fight this guy..."

Spike snorted and then coughed, a little red landing on the pavement.

"I guess you finally got what was coming to you," said Hank, tensely. "A woman abuser like you getting pummeled and left in an alley by a different woman...it's nearly poetic."

Spike's eyes narrowed as much as was possible around the bruises. "What did you call me?" he growled.

"A woman abuser. If you think I'm letting you within a hundred feet of my daughter again you're—"

"I would NEVER hurt Buffy. Never!" He pulled his arm from around the other man's neck and straightened, swaying a little from his injuries. He took a step towards Hank, managing to carry an air of menace despite the obvious pain he was in. "Now what," he growled, "put such a ridiculous idea in your head?"

Hank stood his ground. "I heard her talking to a friend. Crying. She said 'Why do I let Spike do those things to me?' What am I supposed to think?"

Spike's face twisted. "Bitch! Running around telling everyone I'm _makin'_ her..." he stopped and a look of pain entered his eyes. "She was cryin'?"

Hank folded his arms. "She was."

Spike leaned against the opening, pain still apparent in his eyes. "She's hurting. I tried to help...but everything's just so bollixed..." He looked away from Hank, staring at the pavement. "I wish it was like it used to be, when we were friends. Right after she came back...but she wanted me, you know? And I thought, 'here's my chance! Here's my crumb'...but things haven't been right. The things we do to each other...and she won't let me...things haven't been right." He looked back up at Hank, seeming to remember himself. Anger replacing pain in his eyes, he pushed himself up from the wall. 'If you even _think_ about leaving her again, I'll personally hunt you down, and chip or no chip, you'll die screaming."

Hank stared back, believing every word, though confused about the 'chip' bit. He completely believed this man was capable of what he said, but he stood his ground. He had to say strong for Buffy's sake.

Spike regarded Hank for a minute longer, then nodded. He leaned back into the wall, apparently exhausted.

"C'mon, man," said the loose-skinned guy. "It's nearly dawn. Let's get you home."

Spike allowed himself to be lead away by the other man.


	6. Chapter Six

By "Painbow"

_Summary:_ Buffy's dad returns; S6, post DoubleMeat Palace

_Disclaimer:_ I don't own Hank or Buffy or Spike (sob) or Dawn. Actually, I don't own any of the characters…yet! Mwahahaha! ahem

* * *

**Chapter 6**

Dawn sat, knees curled up to her chest, on top of Spike's sarcophagus. He wasn't there, but it was getting close to sunrise, so he'd be back soon. Probably just out playing cards or having a beer.

She laid her head on her knees. Things were so hard now. She wasn't quite sure how that had happened. All summer she had missed Buffy. She and Spike had sat on the couch, watching TV or a movie, wishing Buffy was there, cringing every time the Buffybot spoke. Then, there she was! Her sister! And Dawn had just known everything would be okay.

But it wasn't. And Buffy barely even noticed.

Was she being too demanding? She didn't think so. She knew Buffy cared about her, at least she _thought_ she knew, but it would be nice for her sister to show it besides the obligatory saving-Dawn-from-the-big-scaries way. Buffy could ask about homework, or school, or her plans for the evening. She just assumed that Dawn didn't have plans when she was ready to spend time with her! _Like I live in some shoebox you can store under the bed._ Dawn clenched her eyes closed, refusing to allow tears. Tear would just upset Spike. And then he'd ask what was wrong, and she wasn't sure how to answer him.

Of course, she'd have to tell him something.

She heard footsteps outside the crypt and sat up. Demons had learned not to come around her, but there were always some demons that needed the refresher course.

She ducked behind the sarcophagus and peeked around the corner. She let out a sigh of relief when Clem and Spike entered. She let out a gasp when she saw the state Spike was in.

"Spike? What happened?!"

Spike looked at her through swollen eyes. "Hullo, Nibblet." He coughed a little as Clem lowered him onto the sarcophagus.

"Oh, god..." Dawn reached out a hand to Spike's face. He flinched when she touched his cheek. "Spike, what happened?"

"Nothin' you need to worry 'bout, Bit. How 'bout gettin' me some blood from the fridge?"

Dawn scurried over to the mini-bar, grabbing a bag of the human stuff that Spike kept for emergencies. He took the blood from her, mumbling thanks from between his swollen lips, and bit into the plastic, sucking the blood down.

"I've gotta head out, man," said Clem, looking a little uncomfortable. "You need anything, just holler. I'll tell the guys...something."

"Right," mumbled Spike, wincing as he shifted his back.

Clem looked worried, but Dawn motioned for him to go, mouthing, 'It's okay. I've got him.'

Clem left, and Spike rolled his head to Dawn. "Don't think I didn't see that. You 'ave to get home, ducks. Can't stick around here looking after the evil undead." He frowned, insofar as was possible around his injuries. "Why're you here, anyway?"

"I didn't want to be at home. Buffy and I had an...argument." Dawn fingered the bruise on her cheek.

Spike eyed her. "She give you that?" he asked, referring to the bruise.

Dawn pulled her hand away from her face, guiltily. "N-no."

Spike snorted. "Say it again, this time with conviction."

"What makes you think Buffy hit me?" Dawn said harshly, angry that he'd, of course, figured it out.

He turned his head so he was looking it the ceiling. "Cause it's a subject I 'appen to know something about."

Dawn gasped. "_Buffy_ did that to you?"

"Didn't say that."

"She did, didn't she? She hurt you." Dawn's eyes filled with tears. "Why would she do that?"

Spike looked sharply at her. "I didn't say that, Bit," he ground out.

"Fine!" yelled Dawn. "Don't tell me! No one tells me anything! Just send me home to the same house as my sister, who's hitting people!" She stomped over to her bag, picking it up angrily.

"Dawn..."

"No, I get it. You don't care either. I'll just—"

"Bit, stop being a brat and sit down!"

Dawn's mouth fell open. "What did you call me?"

Spike sat up, painfully. "You 'eard me."

Dawn crossed her arms, glaring.

"Dawn, you know I care. If I didn't I wouldn't let you stay in my crypt. You think I let Harris come in whenever he wants?"

Dawn dropped her arms to her sides, looking embarrassed.

"Yeah, big sis hit me. But it doesn't matter, all right? 'M a demon, she's a slayer...this is just how it...it doesn't matter."

Dawn looked up with tears in her eyes. "But it does. You're my friend and she hurt you."

"Don't worry about it, luv. "I'll be alright in a bit. Just help me downstairs, yeah? And...and why don't you stick around. I'll need someone to fetch my blood..."

Dawn looked worried. "Spike, do you think Buffy's okay?"

Spike grunted as Dawn put his arm around her shoulder. "'M not sure, luv."

* * *

Hank didn't know what to think. He still wasn't sure if he trusted that Spike guy, but he was having a hard time believing that he was hurting his daughter. He wasn't sure exactly why, but he got the feeling that Spike truly cared for Buffy. Of course, he'd known of many abusers that claimed the same. It was confusing to say the least.

Hank opened the back door and entered the kitchen. He didn't hear Buffy and her friend Tara speaking anymore, so he decided it was safe to enter.

Buffy was lying on her side on the couch, clutching a pillow and staring into space. Hank approached her as one would an easily scared animal.

"Buffy, sweetie? Are you ok?" _Oh, good question, Hank. Not in any way inane._

Buffy turned her head to her father, eyes watering. "I'm sorry I pushed you, dad....I—I just...I'm sorry." She turned back to stare at the point that had held her fascination before.

Hank wasn't quite sure what to do. He was, he wouldn't lie, a little afraid of Buffy's mood. But he also desperately wanted to comfort her. He went with his gut father instinct. Who knew he even had one?

He sat on the couch next to Buffy's feet. "Don't worry about it, sweetheart." He paused. "You can tell me about it, you know. What happened before you went to talk to Dawn?"

Buffy shifted a little but didn't say anything.

"Buffy, please. Tell me what's going on."

Silence from the cushions.

"You know, I didn't wait until Sherri dumped me to come back."

Slightly more attentive silence.

"I was sitting in a little coffee shop, girlfriend across from me, when I looked over and saw this blond girl sitting two tables over."

Buffy shifted a little and Hank suspected that she was sitting up a little more. He continued his story.

"She was about your age, and she looked so much like you. She looked so happy, on holidays with her parents, or something. I reached into my pocket and there was that letter. The one you sent to that old PO box of mine."

Buffy was sitting up, looking right at her father.

"In it you had sounded so sad. You talked about your mom and about Dawn and how you wanted to "let me know," like you never expected me to even answer. And I thought, 'My daughter isn't happy and she doesn't think I even care.' That was when I decided to come home."

Hank looked his daughter right in the eye. "Buffy, what happened with Spike?"

Buffy looked away. "I...I have to go."

She got up from the cushions and headed to the front door.

"Buffy, you can tell me, you know? I want to help you."

Buffy looked at her father. "You can't help me with this, dad. I have to go."

Hank walked over and put his hand on her shoulder. "I'm not going anywhere, Buffy."

Buffy smiled sadly. "That's what they all say."

She walked out the door and Hank turned back to the living room. He noticed the desk in the corner, papers strewn across the top, and decided to see what he could do about the bill situation while he waited for Dawn.

* * *

Buffy knocked tentatively on the crypt door. _First time for everything, _she thought.

"Spike," she called, softly. Part of her hoped he was sitting in the chair watching TV while the rest of her hoped he was still out.

She opened the door to his crypt and entered slowly, looking around for signs of him. She was worried. The sun was coming up. She hoped that he made it back.

* * *

_Earlier that evening..._

"_Why do I let Spike do those things to me?"_

"_You mean hit you?"_

_Buffy looked down._

"_Oh...oh!"_

"_I...you must think I'm horrible."_

"_Oh, Buffy, no! I—I'm surprised is all. Wh-when?"_

"_For a while now...I just..." Buffy looked like she was going to cry._

"_Buffy, you...you don't have to explain it to me. Do you love him?" At Buffy's look she hurried to her next part. "It's alright if you do."_

"_How? How is it alright?"_

"_Well, he's done a lot of good. Helped us, looked after Dawn."_

"_I don't know what I feel, Tara. I just...I hurt him. Tonight." At Tara's confused look she continued. "I hit him. A lot. And not just him. I pushed dad and...Dawnie," Buffy sobbed. "Oh, god, Dawnie!"_

_Tara's eyes widened. "You—"_

"_I hit her. She was yelling at me and then at dad. She said, 'are you just dense like mom' and I lost it. Tara, I hurt my sister!"_

"_And Spike?" _

"_He was...we found this dead girl. I thought I had...and he tried to stop me from going to the police. I hurt him."_

_Tara didn't know what to think. Buffy was losing it. She needed help, fast._

"_Please don't tell the others! About any of it! Please! Oh, god, how they would look at me!"_

"_Oh, Buffy, sweetie." Tara leaned in and pulled Buffy into a hug. Buffy started to sob uncontrollably. _

"_How can you forgive me? Please, don't! Don't forgive me!"_

* * *

Buffy needed to talk to Spike. She wasn't sure what she was going to say, but she needed to make sure he was okay. Then she needed to go home and see her sister, try to explain...or just apologize.

She looked around the main floor of the crypt. When she approached the ladder she heard voices coming form the basement. She went down.

* * *

Dawn had propped Spike up with some pillows on his bed. He had a glass of blood less then an arm's length away. She sat at the foot of the bed and dealt the cards.

"Five card stud, jacks are wild," she said.

"See, there! You quirked your lip! Every time you have a good hand your lip quirks!"

"It does not!"

"Yeah? Well, I fold."

"But I had a—jerk." She sulked.

"Dawnie?" Spike and Dawn looked up, surprised. "Dawnie, why are you here?"

Dawn glared at her sister. "Playing cards with Spike and looking after him. _Someone_ hurt him really badly." Buffy flinched.

"Did you come here alone? You know it's dangerous."

"Yeah, I did. And on the way I had a whole bunch of near misses! Not just monsters, either. Drugs, alcohol, boys, you name it, it tried to seduced me."

"Dawn," said Spike, warningly.

"I—I'm glad you're okay," she said to Dawn. She looked up at Spike, hoping he could read the same message from her eyes.

He caught her glance then looked down at his cards. "Look, slayer, we're a little busy. Dawn's decided to stick around for a bit, spend the night, braid my hair, you know." He looked up at her quickly, making it clear Dawn would be staying. "So if you don't mind?..."

Buffy opened her mouth to reply then shut it. Opening it again, she just said, "Sure," and climbed back up the ladder.


	7. Chapter Seven

**Hank **

By "Painbow"

_Disclaimer:_ I don't own Hank or Buffy or Spike (sob) or Dawn. Actually, I don't own any of the characters...yet! Mwahahaha! ahem

* * *

**Chapter 7**

Dawn sat in the living room, arms folded across her chest, glaring at Buffy.

"I'm sorry, Dawnie. One of these days we'll have a real dinner, I swear." She avoided looking her sister in the eye. The events of _that_ night still hung between them, even though Buffy had apologized. She was certain Dawn didn't fully trust her, and to be completely honest, Buffy wasn't sure she trusted herself.

"Yeah, sure, whatever." Dawn looked out the window.

Hank walked into the family room and Buffy quickly shoved her weapons bag behind her. She was so used to a state of "everyone knows Buffy's the slayer" in her own house, that she kept forgetting her dad didn't know. And Buffy didn't want to tell him. She didn't really trust him to stick around, no matter how many times he tried to assure her he wasn't going anywhere.

"Hey, sweetie. Where are you going?"

Buffy scrambled. "Oh...um, out with some friends. To the Bronze!" She flinched a little at how forced that sounded.

Hank smiled, missing the scramble for an excuse completely. "Good! I'm glad you're getting out with your friends."

"Um, yeah...it should be fun. What are—" Buffy stopped speaking when she noticed a suitcase in the hall. Her jaw tightened. "Well, that didn't take long. Leaving already, are you?" She refused to cry. "Not sure why I'm surprised."

She turned to her bag and began shoving weapons in at random. She felt a hand on her back. Shrugging it off, she turned to face her father. "What?"

"Buffy, I'm not leaving. Well, I am, but only for a couple of days to LA. I'll be back in time for your Birthday."

Buffy forced back tears. "I'll believe it when I see it." She walked quickly to the door, breathing deeply once outside.

Dawn glared at Hank from the couch. Hank wanted her to believe him. "Dawn, I will be back."

"Really? Cause I'd be a lot happier if you stayed gone." She stood up and pushed past him, running up the stairs.

Hank sighed, staring after her and picked up his suitcase.

* * *

Buffy set her weapons bag back in the closet and made her way down the hall to the guest room. She paused at the door, breathing deeply. She didn't want to go in, just in case, but she had to know. Was her father really coming back?

Of course the question was how would she feel if he did? All her friends hated him. A lot. She hadn't had Xander over since Hank had been back. When he'd found out he'd started ranting relatively incoherently. Willow just avoided him as much as possible, glaring at him whenever he was in the room. Of course, Hank pretty much ignored her as much as was polite. They didn't seem to be any closer to getting over their argument. Spike, not that he could be considered a friend, ground his teeth at every mention of her father...of course, she hadn't seen much of him lately.

But deep down, she didn't want him to be gone completely. He really was helping. She'd cut down her shifts at the Palace to twice a week and was thinking about looking for another job, someplace without the smell. And...it felt really good to have her dad back. To know he cared enough about her and Dawn to come back.

Of course, she didn't really trust him, as evidenced by this evening's freak out followed by...

She pushed open the door and let out a breath she didn't even know she was holding. Most of his stuff was still here. He was really coming back...or else donating a lot of men's accessories to her and Dawn.

She closed the door and walked by Dawn's, noticing that the light was on.

She tapped lightly on the door. "C'I come in?" She opened the door a little to see Dawn sitting on her bed, reading a magazine. "Dawn? Is it okay if I come in?" Her sister continued to ignore her.

Buffy came just inside the door. "Dad's coming back."

Dawn didn't put down the magazine. "Too bad."

Buffy gaped at her.

Dawn looked up, exasperated with her sister. "Look, Buffy, I know you're all thrilled that dad's back, but I'm not. We don't need him! And I sure as hell don't want him here."

Buffy frowned at her. "Dawn, we do need him. He's helping out with the bills and—"

"So all you're interested in is his money? What about how he left us, Buffy? He's worthless...and really annoying...and he left us!"

"But he came back," said Buffy, softly.

"Yeah? Well I don't care. He's not _my_ father. I don't owe the bastard anything."

"Dawn! Don't—"

"Don't what? What will you do? Hit me again?"

Buffy looked like she'd been slapped. "I said I was sorry. And I am. Dawnie, I wish—"

"Yeah, whatever." She turned back to her magazine.

* * *

Dawn headed to the Magic Box, hoping that someone would want to go to the Bronze with her. She'd been spending a lot of time at home lately and wanted to get out.

She opened the door and walked in, noticing that everyone had paper strewn out in front of them. She sighed. This did not look good.

She walked over to the table. Xander was frowning at something in front of him and Willow was clacking away at her laptop, tongue sticking out the corner of her mouth. Anya was up at the counter, sorting through pieces of paper with a slight gleam in her eye.

"Hey, guys," she said, trying to get their attention.

"Hey, Dawnster," said Xander, not even looking up from his work.

Anya spared her a glance from the counter. "Hello, Dawn. Would you like to help me with the money?"

Dawn half-smiled. "No thanks, Anya."

Anya shrugged and bent back over her work.

"So I was wondering if anyone wanted to go to the Bronze with me tonight?"

Willow looked up. "Sorry, Dawnie. After I finish up with this I have to go to my group...you know, the whole Spellcasters Anonymous...we're trying to come up with a better name," she finished in response to Xander's look.

Xander turned his look to Dawn. "Sorry, Dawnie. I have to finish these crew schedules for tomorrow."

Anya gave her a sympathetic look. "It just looks like one of those nights."

"Yeah, ok," said Dawn. "Whatever that means," she mumbled as she walked out. She'd already been by Spike's earlier and he'd been out, probably getting more blood or going to a poker game or something.

Buffy was out patrolling again, but things were still weird since her sister had hit her. She knew Buffy was sorry and that it had happened because of extreme circumstances, but their relationship had changed anyway. Dawn wasn't so sure how much she trusted Buffy now and for how long her lack of trust would last.

Of course, she had to admit to herself that a lot of the lack of trust was because Dawn was angry. Really, really angry at Buffy. The night she'd come into her room it was clear; Buffy didn't care about her. Buffy didn't want to be around her. It's not like she'd gone out of her way since she came back to try to spend time with her. Every one of the few times Buffy had suggested they do something it was a "oh...well I don't have anything else to do" situation. And it wasn't just Buffy.

Part of her felt really bad. She knew Buffy was hurting and she wanted to help her. But the other part of her just couldn't forgive the months of neglect. She knew Willow was still trying to get better, but they hadn't had so much as a chess game in months. And Xander and Anya were getting married and so busy and hadn't asked her if she wanted to help. At all.

She kicked over a garbage can as she walked past. Her guidance councilor had been talking about it with her today. People just tended to leave. She wished they wouldn't, but it's not like she could do anything about it.

* * *

"Guys, this is Sophie. Sophie this is..."

Dawn watched Buffy make the introductions from the couch. She was nervous about her gift. She really hoped that Buffy would like it.

She glanced out the window, noticing a cab pull up in the driveway. Hank got out and ran to the door, clutching an envelope. She stifled the part of her that was glad he'd really come back and glared at him, hoping he'd trip on the way to the door.

Things were better today. At least they seemed better. Buffy looked happy. Spike had come too and Dawn had watched her sister great him from the door. She'd given him a hug, whispering something in his ear that had made Spike look dumbfounded. Dawn had grinned at him and he'd motioned for her to leave before Buffy caught her staring at them.

Dawn watched everyone dancing in the family room as Hank came in the front door. She rolled her eyes when Buffy hugged him, dumbfounding her second man in less than an hour.

Anya and Xander put on the music and started dancing, pulling in Clem and Sophie, as well as the friend they'd brought for Buffy. Xander glanced over at her.

"Hey, Dawnster! Join the fun!"

"Yes! Come share in our groove thing." Anya smiled at her. Dawn decided to get up and dance, completely missing the strange woman on the front porch.

* * *

Dawn clutched her hands in her lap. It was almost time for her present.

Buffy looked oddly at the neck massager that Willow bought her and put it down, thanking Willow. Dawn's gift was next.

Buffy opened the paper and pulled out the box inside. She opened it and reached in, pulling out the gift.

"Oh, Dawnie, it's beautiful."

"Well, I thought, you have enough stuff that reminds you of," Dawn looked over at Hank, "work, so I thought I'd get you something else."

Buffy looked at the picture her sister had picked up for her. It was Dorothy Hamil and it was signed. "Dawn, this must have cost a fortune!"

"Um," Dawn glanced at Hank, a little guiltily. "No. It wasn't too bad. I just thought you'd—"

The picture was stuck back in her lap as Buffy got up to thank Xander and Anya for their gift. Dawn looked down at the picture, picked it up and set it on the table. She got up off the couch and stood next to Spike, trying to keep her cool.

He put a hand on her shoulder. "Don't take it personal, Bit. Slayer's just got a lot on her mind, 's all."

Once Xander was finished explaining where to put the "CD's", Hank handed an envelope to Buffy. He'd been dodging glares from Buffy's friends all evening, but he'd promised he'd be back for Buffy's birthday, so here he was.

"This is for you, sweetie."

Buffy smiled at her father and opened the envelope. She pulled out the papers inside and stared.

Hank looked nervous. "I hope you like it better then flowers and a balloon."

Buffy continued to stare at the papers. Her father had paid off the mortgage on the house. The entire mortgage.

Buffy's eyes started to tear. "Oh, dad, I—" She threw her arms around him. "This is so wonderful! Thank you!"

* * *

Everyone sat in the living room, staring at the door. They couldn't leave the house, and there was no good explanation why.

Hank looked at the assembled faces. He couldn't figure it out. Buffy and her close friends looked worried, but none of them looked at all surprised, like being trapped in a house for no reason made perfect sense to them.

That Richard guy, who was a friend of Xander's, did look confused, as did Buffy's friend from work.

"We've all got places we'd rather be," Buffy was saying. Dawn looked up at her sharply and then ran up the stairs past several pairs of astounded eyes.

"What was that about?" asked Xander.

"Maybe I should go check on her," said Hank, getting up from his chair.

"Er...maybe I should go," said Buffy, not wanting her father to have to deal with Dawn, especially since she had such an aversion to the man.

Spike waved them both down. "Let me go check on the Bit," he said. "None of you are exactly her favorite people at the moment."

Spike made for the stairs and Xander looked around confused. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Anya patted his shoulder. "I think we're very personable."

Willow rolled her eyes at the ex-demon and Tara turned to the stairs, worry clear from her expression.

* * *

Dawn lay face down on the bed, clutching the sheets. She heard a tap at the door.

"Go away!"

"'S me, pet. 'N'I come in?"

Dawn sighed. "Yeah, whatever."

Spike entered looking thoughtful. "'Whatever' should be banned from the English language." He raised an eyebrow, looking down at Dawn. "What enthusiasm. Sure know how to make a fella welcome, bit."

Dawn rolled on to her back. "They don't care, Spike. At all. All they can think of is getting out of the house and away from me as fast as possible."

Spike sat on the bed next to her. "Funny slant on our predicament, platelet."

"Yeah? Well this is the most time any of them has spent with me in months. What am I supposed to think?"

Spike sighed. "I know, luv, but big sis has been...preoccupied."

"Yeah. Whatever that means."

Spike felt a bit guilty, which while not unprecedented, was still an uncomfortable feeling for him. He knew why Buffy had been preoccupied before. He knew why he had been preoccupied before. He shook it off. No use dwelling on it.

"Look, bit, they're gonna ask you if you're the reason we're all stuck here—" Dawn looked furious and Spike pressed on. "I know you didn't, they know you didn't, but they wouldn't be the Scoobies 'f they didn't jump to conclusions. Just...try not to blow up at them...no matter how annoying they get."

Dawn raised an eyebrow. "Hypocrite much?"

"Ever heard the saying, 'do as I say, not as I do?'" Spike smirked. Dawn smirked back.

* * *

Xander looked over at Buffy, a bit of anger combining with the confusion already present on his face. "So...why are you letting evil dead go talk to Dawn anyway?"

Hank wondered the same thing. Except for the part where Xander called Spike 'evil dead'. He wondered where the man could have possibly picked up that nickname. The name of a punk group, perhaps?

Buffy sighed, looking sad and not a little guilty. "Xander, right now the only person she even talks to is Spike." She frowned. "I'm not sure why this is even an issue. Wasn't he her babysitter when I was d—gone," she said, catching herself just in time.

Xander deflated a little. "'S not like we had a lot of choice."

Buffy raised an eyebrow. "Oh, good. That's very comforting." Xander had the grace to look embarrassed. "Xander, Spike's right. None of us," her gaze swept the room, pausing at her father, "are her favorite people at the moment. She's been so angry lately..."

Everyone found something to occupy their eyes as an awkward silence filled the room. Hank looked at his hands. Judging from people's reactions during the party, he wasn't on anyone's favorite person list. But he didn't know what to do with Dawn either. She was so angry...

"We need to find a way to leave the house!"

Everyone looked at Anya, startled by her outburst. She looked down.

"The silence was making me uncomfortable." Xander patted her arm.

Hank grasped on to something that, while it didn't make sense, was easier to think about then his youngest. "Why are we stuck here? It doesn't male any sense."

Anya waved a hand. "Oh, it's probably magic. That's what it usually is."

Hank's jaw dropped.

Buffy scrambled to cover. "She's joking!" Buffy laughed nervously.

Hank stared. "I don't get it."

Anya was indignant. "I was not! It's always ma—" she flinched as Xander elbowed her in the ribs and her eyes widened. "I mean, Ha! Haha! A joke! To lighten the mood. Of course it's not magic...because there's no such thing..."

Buffy cut in again. "Hey! Dad! Why don't you take Sophie, Clem and—"

"Richard," whispered Xander, helpfully.

"—Richard and get some food for everyone from the kitchen."

Hank looked like he was going to protest, but he went wordlessly to the kitchen.


	8. Chapter Eight

**Hank**

By "Painbow"

_Summary:_ Buffy's dad returns; S6, post DoubleMeat Palace

_Disclaimer:_ Still not mine.

_A/N:_ Thanks again to my beta, spikeNdru. Got this sucker back the same day! Also, thanks to everyone who reviewd the last chapter (all 2 of you ;) ). Please, keep the reviews coming.

* * *

**Chapter 8**

Dawn followed Spike down the stairs. She took a deep breath and went into the family room to face the Scoobies.

Buffy turned as she entered the room and gave her a small smile. "Hey, Dawnie. You okay?"

Dawn gave a small shrug and sat down in one of the chairs. "I didn't do it," she said.

"No one said you did," said Buffy, frowning a little.

"But you're going to ask me if I did, and I didn't."

Willow opened her mouth to protest and shut it again. She thought for a moment. "Well, you were taking our wanting to leave kinda personal."

Dawn glared at her. "Oh, so you noticed that, then."

"Well, yeah. And, you know," said Xander, "sometimes we do something that seems like a good idea at the time...like, say, invoke the power of a musical amulet, and it turns out, you know, not so much."

Dawn sighed, trying to keep her cool like Spike told her. It was really hard. "I didn't do anything."

"Dawnie, we won't be mad." Buffy gave her the 'concerned sister' look. Dawn snapped.

She jumped up. "You know," she said, voice calm but fury etched in every line of her body, "I wish I had done something. I'm glad you're all stuck here. Welcome to my life." She turned and headed into the kitchen.

Spike sucked air in between his teeth. "Well, that was fabulous. You lot really know how to make a person feel loved."

"Shut up, Spike," Xander snapped.

Spike raised an eyebrow and left the room.

Buffy sat heavily on the couch. "Well," she said, putting her head in her hands, "that went well. I'll take that sister of the year award now, thanks."

* * *

Hank quickly moved away from the door as Dawn walked towards it. He was more confused than ever. Exactly how could Dawn have caused this? Why would they even accuse her of doing so? And that was the second reference to magic. So either they were all crazy or on drugs, because the last option just didn't...work.

And now he knew why his mother had always told him it was bad to eavesdrop. You ended up with more questions than answers.

Dawn barged into the kitchen, clearly furious, and Spike followed not far behind. Sophie, Richard, and Clem surreptitiously moved out through the dining room door while Hank relegated himself to the corner by the door to the family room. He wanted to hear this. Maybe it would help him understand.

"I can't believe them!"

"Well, Bit, you knew they were gonna—"

"Yeah, but geeze! I say, 'No, I didn't do anything' and they're still convinced I'm lying! Why would I cast a stupid spell anyway? Remember what happened with the last one? Singing, dancing, burning. I'm not that dumb!"

"Well, you are sorta known for getting yourself into trouble, ducks. Remember what happened at Hallowe'en, or all last year?"

"But I didn't do those on purpose! And I didn't cast any spells! Ok, one, but I stopped it! And that was for mom, not some stupid 'ruin Buffy's Birthday' childish revenge thing!"

"I keep wonderin' why she celebrates them anymore. It never goes well." At Dawn's glare he came back to the issue at hand. "Well, Bit, I think it's everything that happened last year. They're all so used to you needin' help and protection from the big scaries that when you don't it throws them for a loop."

Dawn sighed. "Maybe I wouldn't need so much help if Buffy just taught me how to fight."

Spike wandered over to the fridge. "Any blood in here?"

"Should be some left in the back of the fridge. But what do you think? I mean, as the slayer's sister shouldn't I at least know how to kick some demon ass? Like, for the next time something tries to get me?"

Spike pulled a packet out of the fridge and poured it into a mug he had fished from the cupboard. He stuck it in the microwave. "Well, I could always teach you."

Dawn perked up. "Really!? You'd do that?"

"Bear in mind that if big sis ever found out, she'd stake me good and proper, so not a word to her if she says no."

"Oh, Spike! Thank you! Thankyouthankyouthankyouthankyou!" Dawn ran over and gave him a hug.

Spike looked a little embarrassed. "No problem, Bit. Now, lets grab my blood and see if those wankers have gotten any closer to finding a way outta this mess."

He turned back to the microwave and grabbed his mug, taking a sip as he turned back and looked straight into the shocked face of Dawn's father. He swallowed.

"Oh...balls."

Dawn turned to see what he was looking at. Her eyes grew wide. "Um...hey, dad."

* * *

"...not quite everything," said Willow, looking down at her hands. The other occupants of the room stared at her, only to be interrupted by Hank slamming his way into the family room.

His eyes were wild. He gestured frantically at the door. "He-he's drinking blood!"

Spike came running in after him. "Pudding! Blood pudding!"

Hank glared at him. "Don't come any nearer you freak!"

Buffy looked frantically from Spike to her father. "Dad, just calm down. Spike's—"

"He and Dawn said you kick demon ass!"

Buffy glared at Spike, clutching his mug, and Dawn, who was standing ashamedly in the door to the kitchen. She stalked closer to Spike. "You _told_ him!? You hate me that much?"

Spike looked hurt. "It was an accident, luv. The wanker was eavesdropping."

Hank's eyes widened. "It's _true_?" He sat down hard on the floor. "I just thought you were all on drugs."

Tara and Willow awkwardly moved toward the kitchen. "W-we'll...um...just get that spell ready," said Tara. They made a break for the door.

Xander looked up like he had just heard something. "Coming, Richard!" He pulled Anya towards the door. "I'll...er...just see what he wants."

"I'll go with him!" said Anya. They left leaving Buffy clenching her fists, surrounded by another mess.

Xander and Anya entered the dining room, happy to just be out of that situation. They didn't want to have to explain things to Hank, or sit in while the small family imploded.

"Buffy should have just told him the truth," said Anya, with a sympathetic look at the door.

"It's not always that simple, An. Some people have a hard time with the truth."

"So, have you decided what you're going to tell your parents? My guests will all be demons. You'll have to make something up."

They both looked up and met the shocked eyes of Sophie and Richard.

Clem waved. "Hey guys."

Sophie and Richard started at him. Clem lowered his hand. "What?"

* * *

Hank stared at his eldest. Demons? Blood-drinking men? Why couldn't it just have been drugs? Drugs had programmes, and recovery methods, and...steps! Drugs he could deal with.

Buffy sat down next to him, but he continued to stare at the wall. There was this speck right there in the middle of the wall. His eyes traveled down and onto a sword. It took up all of his attention.

After a good stare, and everyone else in the room shifting uncomfortably, he pointed. "Do you use that to kill demons?"

Buffy went through possible responses in her head. No! Demons aren't real! It is clearly drugs like you thought! The sword? Purely decorative. Spike really was drinking blood pudding. Dawn was lying...making things up. Demons? Pfft!

"Yeah," she said softly, putting a hand on his arm.

Hank tore his eyes away from the sword as Buffy started to explain.

* * *

Willow and Xander stood in the front hall, waiting to make a break for the door, should Tara's spell work.

"You sure we don't want Buffy and Spike for this?" asked Xander.

"You want to go in there and get them?" asked Willow.

"Not even a little bit," said Xander, glaring at the front door. "Ok, let's do this!"

They saw a swirl of something come through the entrance hall, and they both clenched their fists and tried to throw themselves at the front door. Nothing.

Willow deflated. "It didn't work," she sighed.

* * *

Hank was trying to take it all in. "So, you slay vampires?"

"Um, yeah."

"And Spike here..."

"Vampire," Spike said, grinning. He stopped himself at a glare from Buffy.

"But you don't kill him because he's good?"

"Because he's harmless."

"Hey! I'm not—"

Another glare.

"And what's Dawn? Some ball of energy, like in that episode of Star Trek when the little blond girl...what?" Hank's sarcasm trailed off at their combined stares.

"Good guess," said Spike, and then frowned. "Though, less Spock and more Stargate."

Hank's widened yet again. He tried to wrap his brain around the concept that Buffy killed vampires and Dawn was some kind of energy alien, when something floated through the room.

"Oh, that must be Tara's sp—" Buffy was cut off when molten silver poured out of the sword that had held her father's fascination, formed into a demon, grabbed said sword, and charged her with a roar.


	9. Chapter Nine

**Hank**

Disclaimer: Still don't own the characters, nor do I suspect I ever will...

A/N: Thanks again to all the people who reviewed. And please keep the reviews coming. They make me happy.

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* * *

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**Chapter 9**

Hank screamed. He wasn't proud of it later, but when the first demon you've ever seen comes running at you after materializing out of some silvery goo, what are you supposed to do?

"Spike! Get him out of here," yelled his daughter, who, Hank noticed, was not screaming. It felt wrong. She was tiny and blond. She should be screaming.

As Spike pulled him up by the back of the shirt, he watched in a daze as Buffy did a back flip and kicked the _second_ demon he'd ever seen, Spike pulling on his shirt-back reminded him that he was being pulled to safety by a vampire. He stopped screaming, but his mouth stayed open as Buffy dodged a sword thrust and punched the demon in the gut.

Spike pushed him next to the couch and leapt into the fight with a roar, only to have his attack foiled by the demon disappearing. Into thin air.

"Where'd it go?" asked Dawn, looking nervously at the spot where the demon had been a moment ago.

"That's the demon I killed yesterday," said Buffy.

"The demon you thought you killed," shot back Spike.

"Can we use magic for this too?" asked Hank, bewildered.

* * *

Anya was restless. She didn't like this feeling. Richard had been stabbed. Xander had been hurt trying to help Buffy's ill-equipped father, and she didn't like that either. The man just kept sitting next to the couch, staring at things and asking questions like, "did mom know about this?", "can you chop it's head off?" and "why aren't you all screaming?" Anya didn't really like him either.

It was so hot, why was it so hot? Even though Xander told her it wasn't, told her she was freaking out, she knew it was hot. She also knew the reason why.

Dawn had to know something. She _had_ to. Her reaction to everyone wanting to leave was suspicious, but no one seemed ready to check it out.

And they weren't willing to do what had to be done to leave. Tara had yelled at her for trying to get Willow to do a spell. Couldn't everyone see? Willow was their best hope. That, or finding out what Dawn had done.

Anya brushed off Xander's objections and started going through Dawn's room. She knew it had to be here. Something. An amulet, a spell, something that would show everyone Dawn was guilty.

Anya didn't even notice the other people in the room until Dawn yelled at her.

"Don't touch that!" Anya poured the contents of the box on the floor. There were amulets all right.

Dawn ran.

Anya chased.

"Half of this stuff is from the Magic Box!"

Dawn looked guilty. Buffy looked over at her gift.

"Oh…Dawn?"

Dawn's eyes widened. "No! Buffy, I bought that!"

"She did. I was with her." Spike didn't want them to tear her to pieces over something she hadn't done. He felt guilty again. But he'd warned her! Sticky fingers…

Anya rooted through the wads of bills and handfuls of merchandise. She came across Hank's credit card info. "Did you buy it with this?" She asked.

"I…no!"

Hank got up from the couch and took the piece of paper. "Oh," he said faintly and looked up at Dawn with hurt in his eyes. "You only had to ask, Dawnie."

"How are we supposed to trust you, Dawn?" Asked Anya, softly. "You say you didn't put us here, but look at this stuff."

"I didn't do anything! I—"

"But how can we trust you?" asked Buffy.

Dawn sat on the couch next to her gift to Buffy. She ran her hand over the picture. "None of you know."

"Know what?" asked Anya, clearly confused.

Dawn looked up at her. "How lonely it is."

"Lonely? But, Dawnie, you have us," said Xander.

"Not really. You're never free. It always 'one of those nights.' There's been a lot of loss." She scoffed humorlessly. "At least, that's what my guidance counselor says."

Buffy looked confused. "Your school has a guidance counselor? I thought they were still looking for a replacement."

"Didn't the last one get vamped?" asked Willow.

"If not, staking him was a bad call," replied Buffy.

"She was new," said Dawn, still looking at her hands.

Anya looked worried. "New? Did she have a pendant?"

Dawn looked up. "Ummm…yeah."

"Did you make a wish?"

Dawn looked worried. "Maybe a little one."

Anya looked annoyed. "That was Halfrek. A vengeance demon. You made a wish to a vengeance demon!" She turned to look at the ceiling. "Halfrek! Hallie, get your ass down here!"

A puff of smoke and a female demon materialized in the living room. "You rang?"

* * *

Hank was trying hard not to start screaming again. This woman had appeared in a puff of smoke, been stabbed through the gut and then stood up and informed them that she preferred the term "Justice Demon". It was too much.

He wasn't really listening to what she was saying. Instead he was trying to figure out exactly what he'd gotten himself into. Demons were real. His daughter fought them.

Did stuff like this happen all the time? Did people get stabbed and attacked and stuck in houses? Was life always this dangerous? How had Buffy managed to live this long?

Hank thought back to when he and Joyce were still married. Buffy had come home, scared out of her wits, raving about killing a vampire. He and Joyce had taken one look at each other and driven her to the nearest psychiatric hospital to get her checked out. About a week and a half later they let her go. The doctors had said it was just stress. Hank felt like an ass. It had been real. How long had she been doing this alone?

Something in the conversation going on around him caught his attention. He looked up, shaking himself free of his thoughts, and met the eyes of the demon woman.

"Yes, you. I'm taking to you, Mr. Absentee Father. Like I told Anyanka, the children need me. They need me to punish men like you. Men who leave and don't come back when they're needed. What kind of a role model were you for your eldest daughter? No wonder she learned to ignore her sister. And you think money will make it better? Money is not all that these girls need. I can't think of a better punishment for you, Mr. Summers." She looked around the room at the others and Hank looked down, clenching his fists, unwilling to accept what he knew was the truth. "You people deserve to be cursed. Enjoy your time together. From now on all you have is time. Time…and each other. Good luck!"

The woman waved her hands in front of herself and nothing happened. A look of embarrassment crossed her face and she began to mutter to herself. She tried the waving again. Hank wondered vaguely what she was doing.

Anya sighed. "It's the curse, Hallie."

The woman simply looked more embarrassed. "Oh, for crying out loud. Fine! The curse is lifted! We can all leave now!…Damn it!" She waved her hands again and disappeared.

Everyone in the family room looked relieved. Xander grinned hugely and then his face fell. "Richard! We have to get him to a hospital!" He and Anya ran up the stairs.

Sophie looked down. "I'd better go call my mom. Umm, Buffy? Happy Birthday." She practically ran to the next room.

"How much you want to bet she avoids me next time we work together?" Buffy sighed.

* * *

Dawn lay on her bed again, face down, picking at the cloth. She felt almost…happy. Before he'd left Spike had asked her if she'd be all right, glancing sidelong at Hank. Dawn had assured him she would be.

"If there's any problem, you just stroll on over to my crypt, yeah?"

Dawn smiled. "I will."

She knew she was going to have to do a lot to help Anya, and she didn't mind. She deserved to be working there for nothing, and if she could help Anya make some money, then even better. It just felt good to have the woman care, though Dawn suspected she always did in her way.

And Buffy had stayed! She could have left and gone patrolling or gone to the Bronze, but she'd stayed and asked Dawn where they should hang the picture, before helping her clean up and cracking a joke about nothing but a cupcake with a candle for next year.

The only unsure note was Hank. He hadn't moved since Halfrek had left. He hadn't even looked up. Buffy had asked him if he wanted anything and he'd just grunted, so they'd left him alone. Dawn felt a fresh wave of guilt. It was one of the things she wished she could take back. The look of pain in her father's eyes when he'd seen the credit card information…she didn't realize he cared enough about her to be hurt by what she'd done.

A light tap sounded at the door.

"Yeah?"

"Can I come in, Dawn?" It was Hank. Dawn froze, not wanting another lecture, but she realized that she needed to get this out of the way, needed it to be over.

"Sure."

Hank opened the door slowly, still looking down. He came in and stood awkwardly by the side of the bed. "Dawn, I…"

Dawn readied herself to hear, "I'm not angry, just disappointed."

"…I'm sorry."

_Huh?_

He finally looked up and she could see tears in his eyes. "Dawn, I'm so sorry. For leaving. For taking so long to come back. For not noticing that you were in pain." He sat heavily on the bed, looking down again. "I'm so sorry."

Dawn was shocked. Not what she'd expected.

"I've been so worried about Buffy. She's hardly there all the time and…I completely ignored you and…there's no excuse. I'm sorry." Hank looked up at her again. "You're my daughter too."

Dawn gaped at him. He wasn't freaking out about the Key thing? She looked down. "I'm sorry too, Dad." Dawn looked up to see Hank smiling.

"You know, that's the first time you've really called me that since I got back."

Dawn opened her mouth to protest and then shut it, realizing he was right.

"I can't promise I'll get everything right, because we both know my track record isn't the greatest," Hank began, "but I promise to try."

Dawn smiled. "I promise to try too."

Hank looked sidelong at her. "You're not going to fry me with your powers or anything, are you?"

Dawn's face fell. Was that the only reason?…until she noticed he was trying very hard not to grin.

"Ha, ha," she said and giggled.

Hank grinned wide. "Just covering my bases.


	10. Chapter Ten

Disclaimer: Still not my characters, though if Joss wanted to give me a Christmas present...

A/N: Thanks again to spikeNdru who showed me how to spell paella g

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* * *

****Chapter 10**

Hank stirred the eggs, setting the pan back down on the burner. He ran over to the fridge and grabbed the orange juice, placing it on the table before running back to the stove to take the omelet off the heat.

He wanted a good breakfast for his girls for their first day after can't-leave-the-house-craziness, so he'd left early and gone shopping to fill the empty cupboards. Any reports that he'd heaved a big sigh to be out of the house were a complete lie. Definitely…

When he'd gotten home he'd whipped up more Spanish-themed food, suspecting that it would be better received now that the girls had moved from actively hating him to tolerating his presence and maybe…maybe even wanting him there?

And there were things he wanted too. He wanted Buffy to eat something and then he wanted a hell of a lot more details then he'd gotten last night. He wanted to know more about what his girls did, he wanted to know how the people around her fit in, and he wanted to know what the deal was with Spike. He wasn't blind. It was obvious something was going on between the two of them and he needed to know why it didn't matter that the guy was a vampire, or what that even meant. He wanted to know how Willow fit into the equation and why the slightest mention of magic made her flinch.

Buffy came in through the door and Hank began Operation Find Out More by placing a steaming plate of Ouevos Rancheros in front of her. Buffy looked a little surprised, but then hunger got the better of her and she began to dig in. Hank smiled. She was hungry! Phase One complete. Begin Phase Two.

"Buffy, sweetie, I was wondering if you could clear up a few things for me. I still don't completely get this slayer thing."

Buffy's fork stopped on the way to her mouth. Ambushed.

She sighed. If she didn't tell him everything, ok, not _everything,_ but as close to everything as possible without having her dad jump in the first car headed to LA to stake Angel followed by a severe Spike-dusting on the way back, he would keep asking until it drove her insane. But she didn't want to. She just wanted him to be okay with it and then…just be supportive dad guy, making really good eggs and helping with the finances. All this interest was a little disconcerting.

She sighed again at his hopeful and patient face. No time like the present…

* * *

Hank was clearing up. Buffy had told him what he wanted to know. Everything he wanted to know…almost. She had been spectacularly unclear about Spike's role after he started helping them. _"Sort of helping…he's…he's Spike."_ And she'd quickly changed the subject. Of course the subject had been Angel and he'd noticed her flush and change the subject once again. Hank really wanted to know why both vampires got a glossy history. Well, he suspected he knew why Spike did. His mind skidded to a halt and swerved nicely into the lush and fertile valleys of Denial. However he wasn't sure about Angel.

He had also wanted to talk to Buffy about teaching Dawn to fight. When Spike had brought it up he had thought it was a really good idea. After all, it was clear that Dawn got into trouble as a result of her sister's profession. A lot. So what better way to protect herself then to know how to fight. But Buffy had said no. Adamantly.

"_She doesn't need to know how to fight! I'll be there to protect her."_

"_Buffy, if I have this clear, you died." Hank was having trouble with that part of the story. He focused on his argument._

"_That's not the point! Look, if Dawn knows how to fight it'll give her more excuses to sneak out and wander around. I want her safe, not seeking out trouble."_

"_So you don't trust Dawnie?"_

"_Of course I do!"_

"_Then why—"_

"_Dad, this isn't up for discussion! I know how to fight demons and I don't want my sister doing it!"_

Buffy had run off to work, promising that they would talk more after her job interviews the next day. "At places that didn't reek of potato, pickle, and beef!" she'd laughed before rushing out.

So Hank had a new plan. Operation Make Buffy See That Dawn Needed Training as well as a sub operation that fit nicely with the initial goals…

Dawn finally wandered into the kitchen and Hank placed the plate he'd been keeping warm in front of her.

She smiled slightly. "Thanks…dad."

"Eat up, sweetie. I have something I want to ask you."

* * *

Spike stared at her. "Are you insane?"

Dawn grinned. "C'mon, Spike."

"Crazy. You're crazy. Bug-shaggin', round the bend crazy."

"I don't see why this is such a big deal."

Spike looked incredulous. "Because!"

"Because why?" Dawn asked innocently.

"It's a big deal because…because Big Bads don't have supper with the fam."

Dawn folded her arms. "You had 'supper' with me all the time."

Spike glared. "You're different, Bit."

"So what's wrong with having dinner with Buffy and my dad too?"

"Because I don't fancy a staking!"

"C'mon! Buffy'll behave. Dad wants you there."

Spike looked more surprised. "This was _his_ idea? What's he playing at?"

"Spike, not everyone is out to get you."

"Bit, last time your _father_ and I spoke he accused me of…it wasn't a pleasant conversation."

Dawn pulled out the big guns. Her eyes suddenly got bigger, lip poutier, and Spike groaned. Puppy eyes. It had to be the puppy eyes. "That's not playing fair, platelet."

Dawn grinned internally, making her eyes wider and waterier. "C'mon, Spike…for me?"

Spike tried one last burst of stubbornness. "What does he even want me there for?"

"He wants to talk to you. Get to know you because we're friends. Also," Dawn grinned wider, "he wants to talk to you about training me to fight." She frowned. "I think he also has some theory that you and Buffy are together." Dawn rolled her eyes.

Spike frowned, ignoring the last remark. "He's okay with it? Me teachin' you to fight?"

"Yeah, but Buffy's not. When he brought it up she just said no and then changed the subject."

Spike saw images of Buffy staking him, and not in the fun "ooh, Spike you're so evil, I want to stake you but I can't resist your sinister attraction" way. "I dunno, platelet."

Dawn's eyes watered for real. "But, Spike! You promised!"

Spike crumbled. When it came to his Bit he was the biggest pushover in the history of pushovers. He was going to dinner at the Summers' to make nice with a man he hated and conspire against the only woman in town who could make his life more difficult then she already had, all because the Nibblet had big eyes and a trembly lower lip. Big Bad his arse.

"Should I bring anything?" he grumbled, resigned.

Dawn grinned hugely, throwing her arms around Spike, who tried his best not to smile. It was much easier when he pictured Buffy's response to him being there. They hadn't really talked since…the alley. He wasn't sure how this would play out.

He stopped worrying and grinned, picturing just how uncomfortable she would be trying to make nice for daddy. Sod Buffy. He was doing this for his Bit, and if she wanted to make good on her promise to pay more attention to Dawn then she could put up with it.

* * *

Buffy whistled as she walked home from work. The prospect of an end to hamburger-hell made working there a whole lot easier. Job interviews tomorrow, and providing she didn't screw it up, she could quit the Palace and never have to wear orange again. Ever. She didn't care if it was the new pink.

She wandered through Restfield, contemplating going to see Spike. They really did need to talk…she gave his crypt wide berth. She had absolutely no idea what to say. "Sorry I pounded your face into the pavement" just didn't have a great ring to it. Maybe "thanks for watching over my sister" would be better. But until such time as she could string a coherent, and not inane, sentence together, she was better off giving him some space. After all, he hadn't approached her either. Space.

Buffy strolled up Revello Drive, happy to have a bit of alone time. She remembered vaguely her dad mentioning that he was cooking tonight. She thought back to the eggs this morning, hoping for something equally as good that contained neither beef nor chicken.

She opened the front door and walked in. "Hey dad, hey Dawnie! I'm h—" she stopped dead in the dinning room, eyes resting on the scene before her. A smiling Hank sitting at the head of the table and a grinning Dawn to his left. A sheepish Spike sitting at the foot of the table and a place laid out for her on the right.

"—ome."

* * *

Buffy tightened her jaw, picking away at the paella in front of her. This couldn't get any worse. She hadn't said a word all evening and her father kept giving her worried glances, like she was falling back into the uber-depressed state of his arrival. Nope. Just super uncomfortable.

First, Spike. _He_ seemed to get along great with her dad, after some initial uncomfortableness. Buffy still didn't know what to say to him and he didn't seem to know what to say to her. And Dawn kept throwing the odd dirty look her way, although Buffy wasn't sure what she'd done to earn that. Of course, Dawn wasn't sitting there, picking at her food. She and Spike were cracking jokes and giggling. And Dawn was getting along with her dad! What was going on? Buffy felt very out of the loop.

Spike was enjoying dinner, despite himself. He was chatting his Bit and her dad, who may be a wanker, but at least he was trying. Spike still seethed at the thought of all the things this man had put his girls through, but he was willing to act the part for the Nibblet. The one bum note was Buffy. She just sat there, staring at her food. And for the life of him he didn't know what to say, which was disconcerting to say the least. Anything he would normally do or say to snap her out of it wasn't fit for mixed company. And he wasn't really sure where their relationship, ha!, stood at this point. They hadn't been alone together since…

Hank was speaking to him. He snapped out of his daze. "Sorry, mate. You'll have to repeat that."

Hank smiled. "I was just wondering what your place in the group was? Buffy was a little unclear."

Spike flinched. So this was what he'd been invited for.

Buffy looked up sharply, wondering what Spike would say. She felt a wave of anger. _C'mon, Spike. Tell them what you_ _do, or who. See if you can come back for paella._ She immediately felt something akin to guilt, but clamped down. How dare he fit in better with her family than her?

Spike smirked at Hank. "I help out when I'm needed. Sometimes they pay me, sometimes not."

Hank looked confused. "But Buffy told me vampires were evil."

Spike's smirk grew. "We are."

"But then, why do you help them?"

Spike's smirk faltered. "Well…"

Dawn cut in. "Dad! Rude much?"

"I'm sorry sweetie, Spike, I just…I want to understand." He smiled encouragingly at Spike.

Spike was thrown. Not accusing, not judging, just…curious.

"Well, I help out when the slayer needs me. I can't kill humans so I've got bugger all else to do." He flinched at how that sounded.

"Why can't you kill humans?"

"I—"

Buffy finally cut in. "At least you're not trying to make it sound noble."

Spike glared at Buffy. So this was how it was going to be.

"Spike can't kill because the government put a chip in his brain which fries him every time he thinks about getting a bite. He helps us when it suits him. Basically, he's a soulless creature, dad."

Spike looked down at his plate.

Hank looked shocked. "Buffy! He's our guest!"

"No, don't worry. Slayer's right. Soulless, evil _thing_."

Dawn glared at Buffy. Buffy glared back at Dawn. Spike glared at his food.

Hank sighed. It was going so well until Buffy jumped in. He shouldn't have asked Spike at dinner. Now he'd never get to probe for information about their relationship. Dawn had told him he was crazy, but the glint of hope in her eye was enough to tell him that she didn't think it was too crazy.

Hank looked around the table. What a mess. Everyone was glaring at something. He was fairly certain that Spike's paella would spontaneously combust. And if Dawn had anything to do with it, so would Buffy. There was nothing that could make this worse.

The doorbell rang.

Buffy looked relieved. "I'll get it," she said, practically bolting from her chair.

Spike's shoulders slumped. "If you don't mind, I'll skip dessert."

Dawn opened her mouth to convince him to stay, but stopped when her eye caught the opening door.

Riley.


	11. Chapter Eleven

**Summary: **Buffy's dad returns; S6, post DoubleMeat Palace

**Disclaimer: **Don't own 'em...

**A/N: **Sorry for the wait, but a bunch of RL stuff got in the way, with Christmas and everything. So thank you to stoney321 for the fantabulous beta (gotta love all the positive reinforcement in red :) ) and to spikeNdru, I hope your 'puter gets better soon...

**

* * *

****Chapter 11**

Hank looked around the living room, taking in the faces. Spike was standing in the corner, glaring at the floor. Dawn was sitting on the couch glaring at the man, Riley, who had interrupted dinner. Buffy looked dazed. Hank tried to resurrect the situation.

"So, you're a friend of Buffy's?"

Riley smiled uncomfortably. "Yes sir. Left Sunnydale a little over a year ago. Buffy and I were…friends."

Spike picked up the level of glare, snarling a little.

"So…what do you do?" asked Hank, going into shmooze mode, since everything else seemed to be failing.

"I work for the military," Riley replied quickly before turning back to Buffy. "That's why I'm here. We've been tracking a demon across most of the continent. It was supposed to lead us to a dealer,"

"Demons run drugs?" asked Hank, growing confused once more.

"Eggs. A dealer in demon eggs," clarified Riley. "He was supposed to be in Sunnydale to make the sale with the demon we were hunting, but Sam's blaster misfired and killed it." He turned back to Buffy. "I was wondering if you knew anything?"

Buffy frowned. "Who's Sam?" she asked.

* * *

Spike sat in the kitchen across from Dawn, turning a butter knife over in his hands. They'd left as soon as Crew Cut had mentioned the word "wife". He and Dawn didn't want to be in there to witness Buffy's jealousy and the almighty row that would follow. He could hear Buffy yelling about having this dropped on her. Riley was trying to remain calm, saying that he wasn't her boyfriend anymore, so what about that meant he couldn't move on with his life?

Spike laughed humorlessly then slammed the knife into the table. Dawn started.

"Real mature, Spike."

Spike grinned at her. "Yeah, but it was fun." His face fell again as he heard Riley asking what Spike was doing there. The living room became quiet. _Wanker just put his foot in it,_ thought Spike.

Hank came in through the door, twirling a finger in his ear. "Well, that was loud."

Spike grunted. He wasn't in the mood for jokes.

Hank turned serious. "Spike, I want to ask you what your relationship is with my daughter."

Spike didn't look up. "Why don't you ask her?"

"I did. She wouldn't tell me."

Spike pulled the knife out of the table and began fingering the handle. "Well, then it's not my place to—"

"You don't like Riley much, do you?"

Spike scoffed. "How could you tell."

"Well, the knife-shaped hole in the table was one indication…"

"Yeah, sorry 'bout that."

"Look, Spike, since the alley I've pretty much known you and Buffy were together in some sense. I'm just confused as to how."

"You want a diagram?"

Hank took a deep breath. "No. As far as I'm concerned my little girl is still…well, my little girl. But realistically…"

"Realistically? She and I—" he stopped and appeared to be listening. "That _bastard_!" He jumped up from the table and ran to the next room.

Hank sighed. "So close." He looked over at Dawn. "Sweetie…do you know any…" Her eyes were wide, mouth open. Hank decided to drop the question. "I guess not."

* * *

"Look, Buffy, I don't know what's going on here, but this is Spike!"

"And he's none of your business!"

"He is if he's dealing eggs!"

"Look, Riley—"

Spike came bursting through the door. "Look, you wanker," he snarled, "I don't know what you think I—"

Buffy stepped between them. "Spike, stop it."

"Or what?" He growled. "You'll beat me up again?"

Buffy flinched. Riley stepped forward. "It'd be a start."

"Just try it, solider boy."

"What are you going to do? Have a headache at me?"

Spike snarled and threw himself at Riley, instantly screaming and clutching his head. Hank and Dawn opened the door, watching the scene with shock. Hank clenched his fists. That was it.

"Stop!" he yelled. Shocked faces turned to him. "You will all stop and speak to each other like civilized people. Riley! You are interrupting dinner. If you have something to ask Buffy, do it without accusing the guests of being drug dealers!"

"Sir, it's not—"

"Buffy! Treat your guests better. Stop screaming at this young man, who, as I understand it, you broke up with more than a year ago. Figure out what he wants so we can get back to our evening!"

"I—"

"And stop being so defensive about Spike! If you two are together then you are, but stop yelling at people about it!"

"We're—"

"Spike! You stop being defensive about Buffy! And stop trying to attack this young man!" He glared around the room. "I may not know what's going on here, but there is no reason why you can't sit down and have a civilized meal!"

"But—"

"He—"

"We—"

"I don't want to hear it!"

* * *

Willow put her book on the re-shelving trolley and headed to the door. She'd been spending considerably more time in the library since Hank had come back. She knew that Buffy wanted him around, probably simply because he was her dad, but Willow didn't approve. Mostly because she could hold onto her anger at him with her position as best friend.

As she walked towards Revello Drive she wondered about that position. Buffy hardly told her anything anymore. Buffy hardly told _anyone_ anything any more, but she definitely didn't tell Willow.

Willow figured that she'd lost major trust points after the magic-freak-out-o-rama, but she was trying to make up for it. Trying to be there for Buffy. It was just hard when her father kept asking about her life, trying to be so involved. It was hard to keep up the hate with him trying all the time.

A tap on the shoulder started her. She whirled, first instinct to ready a spell. Willow calmed herself and took in the tapper. It was a brunette woman. Tall, dressed in black, looking confident and uncertain at the same time.

"Willow? Willow Rosenberg?"

"Umm, hey. Do I know you?"

"Yeah, well, no. You know my husband."

* * *

Dinner was awkward. Hank tried to make conversation, but Riley, Spike, and Buffy kept glaring at each other while Dawn picked at her food.

"So…Riley. You follow any sports teams?"

Riley tore his glare away from Spike and tried to smile pleasantly at Hank. "Used to, sir, but I've been in South America for the last year."

"So soccer, then," said Hank, smiling.

"No," said Riley. "We've been under radio silence the whole trip. I miss watching the Lakers, though."

Hank smiled a relived smile. Basketball. Common, non-threatening ground. He turned to Spike. "What about you, Spike? You follow the Lakers?"

Spike tried to stop glaring also. He was having a hard time keeping his game face under control. "Basketball's not really my thing, mate. Used to watch a lot of Rugby." He grinned. "My ex, Dru, always used to get invited to the fan parties afterwards and we'd—"

Riley ground his teeth. "You'd what, Spike?"

Spike turned to him and looked him straight in the eyes. "Give the lot of them fluffy, little puppies that we found homeless on the street."

Dawn snorted into her food. Buffy looked like she was trying to decide whether to be disapproving or amused.

Riley's face went blank. He turned to Buffy. "Buffy, can I have a word with you in the hall?"

Hank slammed his glass down. "That's IT!" Everyone turned to stare. "I don't care what all the tension is about, this ends now!"

Hank glared around the table. "Riley! What is it that's so important?"

Riley looked at his plate. "Well, sir, this demon…"

"Try again."

Riley shut his mouth. He'd been trained to withstand torture. No way this guy was getting anything.

There were several minutes of silence as Hank eyed Riley. Hank turned to Buffy, figuring that Riley could wait. "What about you, Buffy? What's the problem?"

Buffy tightened her lips. He wasn't getting anything from her either. Nope…nothing. She shifted in her chair. She remembered this look from when she was younger. The stare of doom. The stare that had never failed to make her fess up. Never failed, that is, until she had killed her first vampire. She'd forgotten how uncomfortable it could make her. But she was an adult now. She was past feeling obliged to spill everything just because her father gave her The Look. She…

"I guess I'm jealous." Hank grinned to himself, hiding it when Buffy looked up. The Look still worked. He vaguely heard the front door open as his daughter continued. "I've always wanted a normal life, and here Riley is, sporting his. And he just expects me to drop everything and help him, even after how we broke up, with him leaving like that after the…women."

Riley opened his mouth to speak but a look from Hank silenced him.

She turned to Riley. "And now you're back, telling me to get rid of Spike because our relationship is unhealthy and all I want to know is how you even found out?" Buffy calmed herself. "Have you been spying on me, Riley?"

"That's a good question." Everyone seated at the table turned to the door where Willow stood next to the tall brunette who had spoken. "So, Finn…you gonna answer it?"


	12. Chapter Twelve

Disclaimer: I still don't own these characters. Anyone who thinks I do...well, thank you for the vote of confidence and then go buy a TV :)

A/N: Thanks once again to stoney321 for the beta...love ya hun!

Also, I'm not a Riley fan. I really am not a Riley fan. But I've tried, hard, not to allow that to colour my writing too much. Believe me, if I had my way Riley would spontaniously implode, but it's been pointed out that that's a very biased way of looking at the character... ;)

Also, I am following a specific interpretation of the events of As You Were (that actually makes sense to me, as the episode does not). You can find it here: www(dot)livejournal(dot)com(backslash)users(backslash)theohara(backslash)162286(dot)html(numbersign)cutid1

(the things in brackets are symbols...links don't seem to work for some reason...)

* * *

**Chapter 12**

Everyone sat uncomfortably in the kitchen again, this time with the addition of Buffy. There was no yelling from the other room. Hank knew that the near silence was worse.

When Sam had asked her question Riley had, to his credit, given a straight answer. Yes, he had been keeping tabs on Buffy. Yes, he had grown especially interested when he found out about Spike.

"Even if he's not the Doctor he's into something! He's evil, Sam!"

Sam had looked reflective for a moment and then turned to everyone in the room. "Is there someplace private? I need to have a word with my husband."

Hank had stepped in. "I need some help in the kitchen…why don't you two just stay here." Everyone had followed him.

The silence was growing unbearable.

Willow broke it. "What did they mean about Spike?"

Buffy looked down. She focused on the hole in the table. "How'd that get there?"

Silence.

Willow tried again. "Buf—"

Buffy looked up, slightly desperate. "Wil…not now, okay?"

Willow tightened her lips. "I have homework." She headed for the stairs, going through the dining room so as to avoid Mr. and Mrs. America and their marital issues. Buffy caught up to her at the top of the stairs.

"Look, Wil, I—"

Willow turned. "Buffy, don't bother, okay. I don't want more excuses or walls or attempts to get me sidetracked. You don't trust me anymore. Fine. I guess I earned that." Willow tried to smile.

Buffy's eyes watered. "No! That's not it I—"

Willow turned towards her room. She turned back suddenly. "You know, I don't know why I expected anything different! I mean, this is just like with Angel, and now we're talking about a possible dead boyfriend number two and you still won't tell me anything! All you do is say things like 'not now' and 'you wouldn't understand' and of course I don't understand because you won't tell me and…I really have to do my homework now." Willow turned back towards her door. She was stopped by what Buffy said next.

"I'm sleeping with Spike."

Beat.

"I—well, I was. I don't know what's happening now. I…I hurt him, Wil. I hurt him and Dawn and…" She stopped talking. Willow could hear her trying not to cry.

She turned back to her friend. "Oh, Buf, I—"

"Don't tell me it's okay! Don't tell me you forgive me or that it's momentary insanity or some result of being back from the dead. It's not any of those things!"

Willow paused, smiling sadly. "I wasn't going to say any of those things. All I wanted to say is…I'm glad you told me."

Buffy stared for a moment. Willow stood, just out of reach, smiling sadly back at her best friend. Buffy lunged into a hug.

"Oh, god, Wil!" She clenched her friend tightly. "I was so afraid to tell you and…I've missed you! Not talking to you! But after the spell and the accident and…"

Willow clenched her eyes closed, hugging her friend back. "Buf, you don't have to explain. I lost your trust. But I'm going to get it back."

They stood at the top of the stairs for a moment longer before breaking their embrace. Buffy wiped tears away. Willow decided to broach the subject.

"When did it start? You and…you and Spike?"

Buffy took a deep breath, steeling herself. "Right after all the singing. I…I wanted to die and he helped me. Made me feel…something." She looked down at her hands. "I used him."

Willow decided to go for a supportive and non-judgmental hand squeeze.

"Now…I have no idea where we stand. We haven't talked since I…and I couldn't tell anyone but she found out and she forgave me, even though I asked her not to and…"

Willow squeezed again. Buffy smiled at her. "I'm skipping parts, aren't I?"

"I'm missing some proper nouns."

"I—I beat him up."

Willow smiled. "Anything else?"

Buffy shook her head. "You don't understand, Wil. This was different. I beat him so he couldn't, wouldn't, get up again. I left him there in that alley and when I walked away I didn't care if the sun came up on him lying there. How do you come back from that?"

"Well…do you want a relationship again? Do you want to try and…" Willow stopped, frowning. "You're right, Buffy. How do you come back from that?"

"I don't even know if I want to." She stuttered for a second. "Not that I don't want to make it better…if I can, but I don't know about our relationship. It…" Buffy stopped and thought. "He told me once that if he couldn't have all of me then he didn't want to keep seeing me."

Willow tried to wrap her mind around the idea of Spike telling Buffy he didn't want her.

"I don't think he can have all of me. I don't know if there's an all of me to have. I have a hard time trusting. I mean…they keep leaving, you know?"

Willow put an arm around her friend. She didn't understand a lot of what Buffy was going through because, hey, still looking forward to death number one, but she did know what to say.

"But Buffy…sometimes they come back."

Buffy looked up at her friend and smiled.

* * *

Hank watched Spike carefully. The man…pire was staring forlornly at the hole he had made in the table. 

"She din' even blame it on me," he said.

Dawn rolled her eyes. "Spike, don't start the mopey puppy thing again, okay? It was damaging enough to your image the first time round."

Spike looked sharply at her and then sighed. "My image is damaged beyond repair, Bit. Here I sit, William the Bloody, waiting in the kitchen politely for a bloke I hate to have it out with the wifey. I should be in there watching the fun." He looked wistfully at the door.

Hank watched his daughter and her friend banter. He didn't quite know what to make of the man sitting at the table. Spike clearly cared for the girls, but…a vampire? Didn't they…kill young women in pale, flowing nightdresses as they posed romantically on balconies?…and other vampirey things. Hank decided that after he learned more about vampires then what he had seen in Dracula, he needed to spend some time with Spike. Have some heart to hearts. Find out what made the guy tick…spend some time.

Xander and Anya's wedding was in a week…perhaps they could get drinks after the rehearsal dinner? He'd have to run his idea by Dawn. This dinner thing, which she'd thought was a fantastic idea, had not quite turned out as planned.

The kitchen door opened and Riley walked in, looking a little shamed.

"Sam and I are going to take off. We still have to bag this doctor guy."

Hank put on his best smile and tried not to let his overwhelming dislike for the man colour his feelings. In all fairness he probably wasn't a bad guy…they hadn't met under the best of circumstances.

Hank stuck out his hand and Riley shook it. "Thanks for stopping by."

Riley half-smiled. "Well, I had a great time. We'll have to do it again real soon."

"You going to be okay in the car?" Hank asked.

Riley blushed. "Yeah. Sam and I are okay. After a little corporal punishment things'll be fine…"

Dawn made a choking noise as Hank raised his eyebrows.

Riley looked more embarrassed. "That didn't quite come out right." He looked around the kitchen. "Buffy here? I wanted to say goodbye."

Spike looked up from where he had been paying very close attention to his fingernails. "She went upstairs with Red. Now be about your merry way, Crew Cut." Spike made a flicking gesture with his fingers.

Riley's jaw tightened. "Remember what I said the day I left? It still stands."

Spike raised an eyebrow. "Oh, yeah?" He stood up. "Then get to it, Cardboard. Right here, in front of the Bit and her dad. Make sure it's a real stake this time."

Riley clenched his jaw and Spike took a step forward. He lowered his voice. "And what _I_ said still stands. This chip? Once it's gone—"

"You guys are so lame." Dawn gave both of them a disgusted look. "I know you're both manly men, or whatever, but could you cut the macho act? I just ate. Besides, it looks from this angle like there's some unresolved sexual tension."

Spike and Riley both looked horrified.

Hank tried hard not to grin. Dawn shrugged. "What?"

Riley took control of his facial expression and turned to Hank. "Tell Buffy I said 'bye." He left the room without looking at Spike.

Dawn giggled. "Did you see how fast he left? Guys are all the same."

Spike turned to her, still horrified. "I wouldn't touch Cardboard with a ten-foot pole!"

Dawn stifled her smile. Spike was such an easy mark. "Of course."

* * *

Buffy sat in the kitchen, finishing off the remains of the paella. She looked up as her father came in. 

"I didn't get to enjoy much at dinner," she said, in response to his questioning look.

Hank quirked his lip. "I wonder why."

Buffy looked down at her food. "Sometimes I think that the men in my life are actively trying to make me crazy. It's almost like they meet in some big room and plan this stuff." She looked up at her father. "I mean, Riley and Spike at the same table after I've slept with both of them? Throw in Angel and Parker and you've got a full set."

Hank didn't know what to say. _At least she can name them all,_ he thought before chastising himself. He wanted full disclosure. He was getting it. _Lucky me._

"And Riley left. Again." She pushed some paella across the plate. "At least he said goodbye this time."

"He did," said Hank. "After he and Spike has some kind of pissing contest."

Buffy looked up with a half-smile. "I'll bet they did."

After a moment of reflective silence Buffy suddenly growled. "What is it with them! Is it me? Is there something about me that makes men leave? And then once they've gone they come back and do things 'for my own good.' I mean, Angel and I pretty much couldn't be together, but we were trying and then, ' 'Bye, Buffy!' he's gone to LA. But that doesn't stop him from poking his nose in from time to time to 'check up on me.' At least Parker just left. Of course, it was of the 'wam, bam, thanks Buffy…see you around' variety of leaving.

"And then there's Riley. He was supposed to be the normal one. But he fights demons too, starts to like them too much and leaves after getting sucked on by some vampy prostitutes, only to come back and decide I shouldn't be with guy number four, who is the only one who hasn't left, only his idea of a romantic evening is getting punched in the nose over a shot of Jack Daniels and blood and then having some fun on the balcony at the Bronze…"

Buffy looked up at her father's briefly horrified face and quickly covered, "…with dancing." The look didn't go away, so Buffy decided to continue. "So, the question I have is…do they always leave? Can I expect Spike to take off in the near future? Because so far that's the pattern. It's like Sunnydale is a stop for all meddling, drifter boyfriends." Buffy resumed pushing food around her plate.

Hank wasn't quite sure what to say. His little girl…she'd gone through so much, and…all the men in her life left? Well, they'd already had a path laid out for them.

Hank didn't know what to think about her various boyfriends. They were a mixed bag, to be sure. And now he wasn't sure he liked any of them. Drinks with Spike was happening sooner rather than later.

He wondered if she thought he was meddling? And he knew he was wondering because he didn't want to think about the other thing. All the men in her life left. All of them. Beginning with him.


	13. Chapter Thirteen

Disclaimer: I don't own these characters. If I did there'd be a series of wild, all night parties…

A/N: Big thanks and smoochies to spikeNdru (she's baaaaak) for the beta and to MJ who completely fixed my argument scene. Also, thanks to everyone who keeps sending me feedback. I really appreciate it!

**

* * *

**

**Chapter 13**

Spike was feeling jumpy. He didn't trust this.

Hank, or The Wanker Who Left, as Spike preferred, was joining him for drinks at Willy's. And Spike didn't even know where to start with all the things that were wrong with that.

He was pretty certain why Hank wanted to 'bond' with him. Hank probably figured there was still something going on with Buffy…ha. Not after yesterday.

So now he and Hank were going to a demon bar, the next flaw in the bonding plan. And, it was a bar where most of the demons hated his guts and only refrained from killing him because that would piss off the slayer…she wanted to do it herself, they said. He sighed and turned down Revello Drive. Hank had offered to meet him at the bar. Spike had told him, as tactfully as possible, that he was being an idiot and would get his arse kicked if he so much as set his big toe in Willy's alone.

He wasn't sure why he was still being nice, or what passed for nice in Spike's books, to The Wanker Who Left. It wasn't like he and Buffy were still together. That had been made perfectly clear when they'd talked yesterday. Well…sort of clear. As usual, Spike never really knew where he stood with her unless she was punching him in the nose.

But they had talked…finally. It had been almost civil for them. Awkward, but civil. After she had taken ten minutes to stammer and babble out an apology for the alley he had tried to say his own apology. And had put his foot in it.

"_What do you mean, 'trying to show me who I am'?"_

"_No…I…well, you live in a world of darkness and—"_

"_You thought you'd show me some?"_

"_Yea—well no…I mean…"_

"_So…our relationship was all about you _helping _me. Taking care of Buffy, who, god knows, can't do it without some man?"_

Spike looked shocked. "No! Buffy…I loved you! I love you…I was—" 

_Buffy looked like she was about to fly into a rage and then her features softened. "Look, Spike, I know you're trying to explain yourself. But things like the balcony…they're…not my idea of what happens in a healthy relationship."_

_Spike flinched. He went on the defensive. "Oh, so some of the more _creative _outings don't meet with your standards? I'm a vampire. If Angel hadn't managed to go out after one round, you'd have found out a long time ago that vampires tend to like things...creative."_

"_Leave Angel out of this."_

"_Why do you think the Great Poof picked Dru? It wasn't for vanilla—"_

"_So, what? You're trying to make yourself feel better by blaming your perversion on someone else?"_

"_I'M perverse? Remember who was standing in front of me!"_

_Buffy opened her mouth to scream something back…and stopped. This was how it always went with them. She took a deep breath, concentrating on anything but Spike's clenched jaw and flashing eyes. She counted to ten. She pictured a cloudless sky in her mind. She tried again. _

"_I just don't think we're such a good idea right now, Spike. I don't like what's happened to me."_

_Spike ground his teeth. "So, it's all my fault, is it? Blame Spike. It's what you're good at!"_

_And Buffy didn't even flinch. She'd looked up at him, sadly. "It's not all, your fault, Spike. It would be so much easier to blame it all on you, but I can't. I let you in, and you were right, I craved you. But…I have to get over this. I have to put my life together again." She looked at her hands. "Besides…after what I did to you, I'm surprised you even want to be in the same room as me. I used you and I hurt you. Until that Buffy is gone…you deserve better. We both do."_

_Spike looked at the floor. He didn't know what to say that wouldn't make him sound like a complete git._

_She put a hand on his shoulder. "You do get some points, though. At least you stuck around."_

_And with that she left, leaving Spike in his usual state after a Buffy-conversation: confused. _

He stopped in the street outside The Summers' residence and stared at the lights shining through the window. What the hell was he doing here?

* * *

_What the hell am I doing here?_ Hank asked himself. The bar was grungy, the clientele was sketchy at best, and Spike was looking dourly into a pint of beer. Hank eyed his own drink carefully. He'd asked for a rum and coke. Hopefully that's what it was…

The walk to the war had been somber. Hank didn't quite know how to open conversation. _"So…you're a vampire. What's that like? And just what have you been doing with my daughter?"_ Not the best way to start the evening. He had such plans for tonight. The imparting of fatherly wisdom, the gentle probing for answers, the manly bonding over stories and fermented grain. And then he'd asked Dawn for some pointers.

"_Spike's like 130-something years old, Dad."_

Oh.

Scratch the imparting of fatherly wisdom, then.

Now he didn't quite know what to think. 130-something years old…yet he looked younger and he seemed younger and…he definitely acted younger. So how did you talk to a 130-something year old vampire who was sort of seeing your daughter? How did you talk to a man who remembered both world wars because _he was there_? How did you talk to a man who probably knew _why_ you stuck out your pinky when you drank tea? It was a pickle, sure enough.

Hank took a sip of his drink. Hmmm…not a bad rum and coke.

Spike caught the eye of the bar tender. "O neg, mate. And some of those chicken fingers." He nodded in the direction of Hank.

Riiight…the blood thing. That was something Hank was going to have to get used to as well.

"What's it like?" He asked before his brain caught up with his mouth.

Spike raised an eyebrow at him. "Well, they're done in this spicy, buffalo sauce that's pretty good."

"I meant the—"

"I know what you meant."

Hank took another sip of his drink. "So?"

Spike sighed. "So what do you want here? Some kind of manly chat? You learn what it's like to be a vampire, I learn what it's like to be a father, we bond over shared experiences and alcohol?"

"I—"

"Doesn't work like that mate. There's a bit of a gulf in the understanding, if you get my drift."

Suddenly Spike looked…different. He grinned. It was mostly teeth.

Hank blinked and then raised an eyebrow of his own. Two could play this game. "So…what's it like?"

Spike sighed again. "Is it too much to ask for a little tremor? A little shake? A little fear?"

"I'm not afraid of you, Spike. I've seen how you care for my girls. And you wouldn't still be here if Buffy really thought you were a threat."

Spike's shoulders slumped as he shifted back into his human face. "That's what I was afraid of."

Hank tried again. "So…?"

Spike took a sip of his drink. "Look, mate, 's not something I can explain. Even if I did, 'm not sure you'd understand. 'M a demon. I drink blood. I used to enjoy killing humans. I can't anymore because this plastic thing zaps me."

"So that's it? Why the hell should I trust you?"

Spike looked him squarely in the eye. "Because the chip doesn't work on Buffy and she's still breathing."

Hank stared.

Spike finished off his beer and ordered another.

Hank ordered another rum and coke.

He stared at it.

He drank it.

He made a decision. "That's not good enough."

Spike stared at him in return. "What the bloody hell are you talkin' about?"

"What you said. That's not good enough. There's another reason."

Spike looked back across the bar. "What if there is? It's personal."

"You care for her?"

The drink paused at Spike's lips. "I do."

"Then what about what happened on the balcony at the Bronze?"

Spike choked. "She _told_ you about that?"

"Not intentionally."

Spike wasn't sure why, but he felt the need to explain himself. "Look, it wasn't just me. An' it's not like she said no or anythin'. 'Sides, I'm a vampire. It's what we do."

"I think you can do better than that. You took advantage of her?"

Spike turned sharply to him. "That's one interpretation, but I think you'll find that there was plenty of advantage being taken on both sides."

"So that makes it okay?"

Hank's tone was infuriating. Spike didn't quite know what to do with it. It wasn't accusatory. It was calm, leveled, and impossible not to answer. The man had missed his calling as a cop.

"It doesn't make it okay."

"I'm glad you said that. So, you are going to treat her better in the future." It wasn't a question.

"Not an issue, mate." Spike took another sip of his beer. "We are officially not 'seeing' one another anymore." Spike finished off his beer and ordered a glass of bourbon, which he proceeded to mix with his untouched blood.

Hank ignored the disgusting mixer and studied Spike's body language. He was hurting, but he tried to hide it. And he thought he hid it a lot better than he really did.

Hank swirled his drink around. "I'm sorry, Spike. I know she meant a lot to you."

Spike looked into his drink and then knocked it back. He turned to Hank, eyes almost challenging. "She _means_ a lot to me."

* * *

"So…are you going to teach my youngest how to fight?"

Spike was working on his fourth of the foul blood-bourbon mixes. "Yeah, o' course."

"Buffy doesn't want her to learn."

"Course she doesn't. Doesn't want the Bit able to take care of herself."

Hank raised an eyebrow.

"If the Bit can take care of herself then the Bit _will_ take care o' herself."

Hank left the eyebrow raised. The two men sipped on their respective drinks. Silence ensued while Hank pondered Spike's slightly cryptic statement. His thoughts turned darker.

"I just…I wish I had been there for my girls. I wish they'd had a father figure.

Spike suppressed a smirk. He'd have to play this one carefully if he wanted maximum reaction. Not evil his ass…

"Yeah…well…"

"Well, what?"

"Well, Buffy's a slayer. And slayers always have a watcher."

"A what-er?"

"A watcher. Y'know? An' old bloke who looks after them? Trains 'em and the like. Giles was always like Buffy's father. She used to get his advice for everything. He helped her graduate from high school and kept her alive on the Hellmouth."

Hank tried to suppress the wave of jealousy he felt. "So where is this Giles guy?"

"Rupert? Oh, he left not too long ago. He'll be back soon, I'd wager. Can't stay away from his Slayer for too long. Buffy'll be thrilled when he is. He always managed to keep things together."

"So then why'd he leave?"

Spike looked sidelong at Hank. "Because they all do."


	14. Chapter Fourteen

  
Summary: Buffy's dad returns; S6, post DoubleMeat Palace Disclaimer: Still not my characters or my world. 

A/N: Again, a million smooches and thank yous to spikeNdru and stoney321 for the beta work. Love you guys!

I am (labouriously) trying to bring this sucker to a close. It will definately push 20 chapters. And seeing as how it is now essay time, I'll probably be hit with inspiration more often :p

Chapter 15 is about ready to be beta'd, so I can promise a much shorter in-between-update time :)

* * *

**Chapter 14**

"She looks up to you."

Choking. "Me? No! Take it back!"

"She looks up to you," Hank affirmed.

Spike sighed. "Yeah, I know. God knows why."

"I'm not really sure what to do with her. Besides let her learn to fight. She needs that."

"She does."

"But…I mean, I think things are going okay. But…isn't that usually when they end up in the crapper? Me and teenagers…never goes well. Why can't they skip past it?" Hank looked plaintively at his drink.

"Jus' listen to her. 'S all she wants."

* * *

Buffy walked into the kitchen. Willow was experimenting with something on the stove and Dawn was doing her homework at the table.

"Where's Dad?" she asked, moving towards Willow. She was still hoping for another delicious meal.

"At Willy's with Spike," said Dawn.

"Not sure," replied Willow. "Hope you can make do with my cookin' tonight."

Buffy smiled. "I'm sure it'll be delicious. Hope dad'll be home in time to have some."

"Not likely. He's at Willy's. With Spike."

Buffy frowned. "He's where?"

"Tonight is daddy-vampy bonding day, remember?"

Buffy groaned. "I so don't want to know what they're talking about."

Dawn tried to hide her grin. She couldn't wait to hear Spike complain about it. "Well, dad mentioned that he wanted to talk to Spike about you…and possibly give and receive a little advice from the ages."

Buffy stared at her sister. "Get advice. From Spike. On what, home hair care?" She paused. "Oh, god. I hope not!" Inside she had a sinking feeling. A heart to heart with Spike right after they'd broken up? Poor dad.

"I guess I should save some, then," said Willow. "I'm not as good a cook as Mr. Summers, but after a drink-a-thon with Spike at Willy's he'll want something that's not deep fried."

* * *

"What's that?"

"It's bloody brilliant is what it is. 'S called a Bloomin'…Flowerin'…Onion.

Hank broke some off and tried it. "'S good! How do they make it?"

Spike's eyes lit up. "Well…"

* * *

Buffy pushed some of her food to the other side of her plate. It wasn't that Willow was a bad chef. Not at all. She was just…worried. Jokes aside, she really wondered what Spike and her dad were talking about. Were they deciding what was best for her? As usual, it'd be easier to do while she was elsewhere. She snorted to herself.

Willow looked up. "You okay, Buff? You seem…not here."

Buffy tried to smile. "Just worried."

"About your dad? I'm sure he'll be fine. Besides, Spike knows that if anything happens to him you'll kick his ass."

Buffy pushed the food back to the other side of her plate. "Yeah."

Dawn eyed her sister. "Buffy, they're probably talking about cars or something. Don't worry."

Buffy looked up. "I'm just…" She stopped and smiled. "You know, I'm not so sure why I'm worried. I guess…I'm just glad he's back. I don't want anything to ruin it."

Dawn smiled back. "I know what you mean. Before I was angry with Dad, then he was just convenient…now I'm actually glad he's here. He's such a dork, though."

Buffy grinned. "He is, isn't he."

* * *

"He had this red thing for a bit. Awful car. Penis extension. Beginning of the end, really. Could tell ole Rupes was havin' a bit of a crisis."

Hank squinted a bit. Spike's face was just a little out of focus. "But, I thought he was a real together guy?"

Spike swore inwardly. "Oh, he was. Is. All the strain of acting like the father was starting to do him in, 'specially after bringing the Slayer back. Buffy was dead set against him goin'. She needed the help. She din' know it, but Rupes was takin' care of some of the bills."

Hank felt a surge of jealousy coupled with shame. It should have been him helping Buffy and taking care of things and being the together guy. This Giles was an interloper. An interloper who left, as far as Hank could tell, right when Buffy needed him most. Hank felt a little pride. He was here now, making things better, while this 'Rupes' was off in England having his crisis.

Of course, Hank was having trouble deciding what he was angrier about: the fact that Giles took his place or the fact that he left it.

* * *

Spike slapped some money down on the bar, knocking over one of the many glasses. It was a good thing he was sober…enough to at least get the money on the bar.

He'd asked Hank a question, one that he'd been burning to ask. He was still waiting for the answer.

"She din' need me."

Spike tried to focus on the man while he talked, but it was a lot harder than normal. There were…two of him.

"I mean, it was obvious, you know? Like, I'd get home an' Joyce'd make me be the bad guy an' she-Buffy-wouldn' even talk to me when she came to visit an' I thought, 'Hank, that girl has grown past you.' That family has grown past your…an' there was Sherri…she needed me…an'…an' she was real hot. Like, _real_ hot. So we went to Spain. Espagne!" Hank laughed drunkenly.

Spike tried to latch onto part of the conversation as he held Hank upright in an attempt to leave the bar. Something didn't fit…something…

"That's bollocks, mate. O' course she needed you. Look how miserable she's been since Rupert left. She's always needed somthin'. Some guy to tell her…to be her father. It coulda bin you. Then it was Rupes, but he took off."

Hank squinted at Spike as they walked out the door. "Who? I mean, why'd he leave?"

"Cause he though the slayer din' need him an'more."

"But she did?"

"She does."

* * *

Buffy heard the tapping on the door and half-heartedly hoped it wasn't a Scooby emergency. She wouldn't mind seeing the rest of the gang, she just didn't really want to fight monsters at the moment. Besides she had all the monstery stuff she could handle in the horrible green dress shoved to the back of her closet. "Kill Anya" had just made it to the top of her To Do list.

Willow walked in from the kitchen, a dirty pot still in hand.

"Who is it?" she asked.

"So you're not expecting Xander or anyone?"

"Nope."

Buffy shrugged and reached for the door handle. She opened the door and made another indent in the metal. Why was this always happening to her?

"Hey..."

"Giles!" Willow threw her arms around the man in the doorway, getting a little tomato sauce on the back of his jacket.

"Willow! So good to see you," he said, a little short of breath from the impact of the hug. He pulled back and smiled. "Buffy! How are you?"

Buffy blinked and then smiled weakly. "Great. Just…great."

* * *

Hank and Spike made their way back up Revello Drive. The progress was a bit slower than usual, as both men were weaving and stumbling as they walked, arms draped across each other's shoulders. From a distance it was difficult to tell who was supporting whom. Spike was attempting to sing "Anarchy in the UK", while Hank was desperately trying to remember the lyrics to "A Lighter Shade of Pale". And the louder Hank sang, the more Spike tried to be heard.

Light blossomed in the window of the house they were passing. A man opened said window and leaned out.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" The man yelled. "It's three a.m.!"

Spike started to sing louder, switching to "Sex and Violence", while Hank tried to find the source of the yelling.

He giggled at the window. "Shhhh! You'll wake someone up!"

The man's face turned brick red. "You already have, asshole!"

"Sorry, sir. We'll get these two out of your hair," said a voice from behind Hank. He turned and endeavored to bring the figure into focus while the irate man let loose a string of curses that Hank was sure he'd find more offensive under normal circumstances.

"C'mon, Mr. Summers. Let's get you home," said the figure…figures. There were two. One was a lot smaller.

"Harris!" crowed Spike, throwing his arms around the bigger figure.

Xander grimaced. A drunken vampire and a drunken Buffy's father. What fun.

"Xander, we have to get them back to Buffy before they harm themselves," said Anya, carefully staying out of reach of both intoxicated men. "Mr. Summers is larger than Spike and I am smaller than you. I don't want to be bowled over by an over-enthusiastic embrace."

Hank clasped the only area of Xander's shoulder that was available due to Spike's encompassing hug. "Xna—Xam—Harris! You shoul' come have a drink with us!"

Xander pried Spike's arms from his shoulders. "What an offer! And normally I'd be first in line to have a drink with you two, but I think you've had enough drinks for the both of us. Now…let's get you home. Buffy has some news."

* * *

Hank held onto the doorframe. As fun as Willy's had been, he was glad to be back home. He patted the wall a little, taking a second to let the room swim into focus.

"Slayer!" called out Spike, "I've brought the Wanker back in one piece!" He started to giggle and Hank joined in.

Buffy came into the kitchen to see both her father and Spike propped up against the door, Xander and Anya looking helpless next to them.

"We found them on the way home making friends. We decided to bring them with us," said Xander, trying to grin.

Buffy raised her eyebrows at the state the two men were in. "Hey, dad. Have fun?"

"It was bloody fantastic!" Hank had to catch himself after an over enthusiastic hand gesture.

Buffy moved over to her father, putting his arm over her shoulder. "C'mon, dad. Lets get you up to bed."

Hank suddenly didn't feel well. The room just wouldn't stop swimming. "I think that's a good idea."

Buffy looked back at the door where Spike was still giggling. "Xander, can you take Spike down to the basement? I want him to be here tomorrow morning so I can kill him."

"Aye, aye!" he said, saluting. "And then we get the news, yeah? Please tell me it's not that Spike and your dad are drunk."

Buffy felt her stomach twist as she brought her dad through the living room. Giles was back. Staying with her for a bit…with her dad here too. This was not going to go well.

* * *

Giles watched Buffy half-carry a man through the living room. Frowning he turned to Willow.

She grinned, looking at the scene. "Looks like Mr. Summers tried to match Spike drink for drink." She turned to Giles, mouth dropping at his widening eyes. "She didn't tell you her father was back…did she?"


	15. Chapter Fifteen

Summary: Buffy's dad returns; S6, post DoubleMeat Palace

Slightly Updated Summary: Buffy's Watcher returns; S6, post Hank having drinks with Spike ;)

Disclaimer: These characters still don't belong to me.

A/N: Thanks once again to spikeNdru for another fabulous beta and MJ for giving it the once-over and saying, "OUCH" at just the right place ;)

* * *

**Chapter 15**

Pain. Thumping…no, _pounding_ pain. _Throbbing…aching…excruciating…um, whaddya call it…sore? No…no good. Hurting?…_Throbbing_. Yeah, that's the one._

Hank groaned as he rolled over. His head…oh, god. His head. He turned to look at the nightstand, hoping against hope that some kind soul had left him a glass of water. His mouth tasted like something had crawled in, had a party, and then died.

Ha, hah! Success! Water!

Hank reached a shaky hand over to the bedside table and closed his fingers around the glass. Next up: brining it to his mouth without spilling…

Only a little water dribbled out, as Hank took small sips. That'd learn 'im to try and match drinks with a vampire. It's not like Spike could die from alcohol poisoning. The guy was already dead. Hank wished he could join him.

He heard someone quietly open the door and step in.

"Oh, you're awake."

He tilted his head towards the door. "Hey, sweetie," said Hank, voice a little raw. "Spike sure can drink."

Buffy half-smiled. "Yeah, he sure can. You okay, or do you want me to dust his ass?"

Hank considered the pros of this plan. "No," he said after a few moments. "I'm the idiot who tried to match him." He sighed. "Check out the example I'm setting…Father of the Year award now, please."

Buffy sat on the bed next to him. "I already hand a drink-a-thon with Spike. Not an experience I feel like repeating. You want more water, dad? You look…" Buffy searched for an adjective, but gave up. "…Not good."

Hank groaned a little, unintentionally. "I wouldn't say no to some more water."

Buffy headed to the door and Hank stopped her. "Sweetie, could you…er…not mention this to Dawn? I'd rather she thought I was feeling a bit sick." Hank was pretty certain his youngest would know the cause of said sickness, but he didn't want Buffy to confirm it. He'd talk to Dawn later…when his head wasn't _pounding_…

"Sure, dad," said Buffy, who had already intended to do just that.

* * *

Buffy headed down the stairs with Hank's empty glass. She wondered if he could stomach some bread as well…

"How's your father?" asked Giles, disentangling himself from his 'so cute you could die' sheets. Buffy noted a hint of reproach. Right…she hadn't told him her dad was back. Well, to be expected, what with the showing up unannounced and…happy. She was happy Giles was back…right?

"Fine," she said. That didn't sound happy. She had to sound happy. This was what she wanted…right? "Not really fine," she said, looking in Giles' direction, if not right at Giles. "I have to get him some water." She left for the kitchen.

Giles watched the place where she had been standing. He had wanted his return to be a surprise. In retrospect, he probably should have called first.

Dawn came running down the stairs.

"Morning, Dawn," he said.

"Morning," she said shortly, and then continued to the kitchen.

Yes…calling would have been a good plan.

* * *

Dawn came into the kitchen. "Morning," she said, watching Buffy fill a glass of water. She smirked a little. "That for Dad?"

"Um…yeah. He's feeling sick."

Dawn snorted. "I'll bet he is."

Buffy tried to cover. "No! It's-he-the flowering onion thingy didn't agree with him."

Dawn rolled her eyes. "Right. And Anya's going to start a bunny farm."

"Really, Dawn. He's just feeling sick."

Dawn's mouth tightened. "You'd think getting everyone locked in the house would be enough of an hint that I need to stop being treated like a child."

"I'm not—"

"I could do it again, you know, if the first time wasn't enough," said Dawn, deciding to tease her sister. Getting angry would accomplish nothing, but she could poke fun in a completely un-passive-aggressive way. "Or I could make out with another vampire…let me know if any cute ones are sired next—"

Buffy slammed the glass down. "Stop it, Dawn!"

Dawn took a step back. "Whoa…just a joke, Buffy."

Buffy sighed. "I know. I'm sorry. It's just…the stress is back."

Dawn nodded towards the living room. "Giles?"

Buffy finally looked up at her sister. "A month ago I would have given _anything_ to have him back. Now…"

"You're angry? Because I am. Angry."

"Why didn't he call?"

"It would have been nice before he just showed up if—"

"Not just then, but before. He never called. He didn't know if I was all right. Just decided what was best for me and left."

Buffy picked up the glass of water, braced herself, and headed back into the living room.

* * *

"Buffy?"

She stopped. Damn…she'd almost made it to the stairs.

She turned. "Yeah, Giles?"

"Buffy, I—"

"Can it wait for a bit? I have to get this water to Dad. The rehearsal dinner's tonight, so…"

Giles blinked. "O-of course. It can wait." He smiled.

Buffy tired to return it. Her smile was rather strained.

Giles watched her back as she made her way up the stairs. What was he supposed to say to her? She was clearly upset with him. He'd hoped that she would eventually see his side, why he left. Obviously she still didn't. He wanted to her to be self-reliant, not brining water to people…

Giles glared at the stairs. Her father…she was running around doing things for him. _Why_ was she running around doing things for him? All accounts Giles had heard of Hank Summers pegged him as a self-involved ass. All actions, or lack thereof, that he'd seen said the same. Buffy should have sent him packing, but, from what Willow said, he'd been here for a while and…Willow had almost grudgingly admitted that Buffy was doing better because of it.

But that wasn't what he had wanted for her: to latch on to another male figure. So the question was, did Buffy actually care for Hank, or was he around simply because Buffy had found someone else to lean on?

* * *

Buffy knocked softly on her dad's door and stepped inside. He was right where she had left him, lying on the bed, looking…not good.

"Hey, Dad…I brought you some more water. And, do you think you could eat some bread? Because we have some of that downstairs too, so—"

Hank interrupted her with a smile. "Thanks, sweetie. And stop running around for me. The water is fine. I'll come down in a bit and get something to eat."

Buffy's eyes widened briefly. She wondered if the living room would implode when Giles met her father.

"You know, dad, I could bring some food up here. I mean, it's no trouble…"

Hank noticed something in his daughter's tone. "Buffy, what's wrong?"

Buffy sighed. "Nothing, I just…Giles came back yesterday. To visit," she added hurriedly when her father's face darkened.

"Why?" he asked, attempting to sound causal and failing miserably.

Buffy sighed internally. The living room was _definitely_ going to implode. "He came back for the wedding and…to visit."

"So, you told him I was here?"

Buffy blushed a little. "He knows."

Hank frowned. "That's not what I asked."

"I have to go talk to him. He…we…have to figure out a better place for him to stay than the couch." She quickly left.

Hank felt the jealousy rising and tried half-heartedly to push it down. Buffy was avoiding him.

He got up from the bed, arms still shaking, and slowly made his way out the door and towards the stairs. He needed to get something to eat and meet this Giles person. And then he needed to have a short conversation with the man.

When he got to the landing he paused. He could hear voices in the living room. They didn't sound very happy. So…to eavesdrop or not to eavesdrop. Last time had not turned out well, but…

Who was he kidding? Besides, it would be rude to interrupt their conversation. He sat himself down on the landing, wishing he could see them better.

* * *

Giles watched Buffy walk stiffly into the kitchen and then walk stiffly out with a mug of tea. She placed it in front of him and then made to leave the room.

Giles didn't quite know how to begin talking to her. But she continued her stiff movements until something in Giles couldn't stand it anymore.

"How are you doing, Buffy?"

She looked up sharply. "Fine," she said, shortly. "I have to go to work."

"Where is it you're working?" he asked, proud that she was not relying completely on her father's money.

"At the Doublemeat Palace," she said, picking up an already packed shoulder bag and stuffing her keys into it.

"Well, that's wonderful, Buffy." Why was she working there? She was capable of so much more.

"Yeah, I did it all by my lonesome. Check me out. Strong and everything."

She left, closing the door firmly behind her. Giles' shoulders slumped a little. Mending this fence was going to take some time.

"She's angry with you," said a voice behind him.

Giles turned. "Dawn," he smiled.

Dawn stood in the door to the kitchen, arms folded across her chest. "She won't say that she is, but the way she keeps accidentally crushing cups is a pretty good indication."

Giles removed his glasses. "And you? Crushing cups right along with her?"

Dawn pursed her lips. "It wasn't better with you gone. Buffy needed someone to help her. It's a good thing Dad came back."

Giles paused, glasses halfway to his face. He felt a surge of jealousy and hurt. He focused his eyes on the teacup on the table, trying to maintain a look of calm.

Giles replaced his glasses and watched her leave the room. He turned as someone started coming down the stairs. It was a man and he looked…ill. Giles gritted his teeth. This must be Hank.

Hank noticed a middle-aged man wearing glasses glaring at him from a set of incredibly girly sheets pulled over the couch cushions. Giles…

The be-spectacled man got up from the couch and held out a stiff hand.

"Rupert Giles."

Hank took it, squeezing harder then was really necessary. "Hank Summers. Nice…to met you." Carefully timed pauses: nobility's gift to the subtle insult.

Giles raised an eyebrow. "Likewise," he said after a moment. The British had _invented_ the carefully timed pause.

Hank eyed the man and was eyed in return. He was surprised that Giles was standing his ground so firmly. He _was_ English after all…weren't they supposed to be all proper or dead inside or something?

It looked like the man had reached a decision. Hank's hand was released.

"You leave them again and I will personally hunt you down and—"

Hank cut in. "Eviscerate me? Tear me to pieces? Pound me into a sludgy substance? Turn me into a toad…um…I think I'm missing one."

Giles smiled unpleasantly. "I'll think of something original."

Hank raised an eyebrow. "Look, as I see it, you have no business throwing stones, pal. I'm not the only one who left. At least I was here when they needed me."

Giles stepped forward, eyes dangerous. "Oh, you were, were you? You were here when they needed you? When Buffy died fighting the Master? When she wanted to see the ice show on her eighteenth birthday? When there was a Hell God hunting Dawn? Or when Joyce…you were _not_ here when she needed you. You showed up at the last possible moment and took the credit." Giles took another step forward. "As far as I'm concerned, you've lost the right to make snide comments. As far as I'm concerned they've let you off a hook that I would have let you wriggle on."

Hank didn't allow the guilt to surface. He may not have been a good father, but he didn't want to be told that by someone who had made the same mistakes. "And as far as I'm concerned, you're getting just what you deserve. I may have left, but at least I know it was a shitty thing to do. You're still convinced you were right."

Giles took a step closer. "You have no idea what I'm convinced of," he said in a low, even voice. "And you weren't here to know the reasoning behind my decision. You were gone, flitting about Spain like a besotted student, not giving a duck's ass about your daughters. How can you even claim to know what was best for Buffy at the time I left?"

Hank took a step closer too. "Leaving a depressed and debt-ridden girl alone to raise her younger sister…_that's_ what was best for Buffy?"

"And having her father buy back her affections? How do you think that effects her?"

Hank glared at Giles, who glared right back. He really needed to sit. He was still hung over, and speaking with Giles wasn't helping. He stepped closer, until he was nose to nose with Giles, ignoring the inches he was lacking in height. I was all about the attitude.

"How it effects her is none of your business. _I_ am her father and _I_ will take care of her."

Hank took a step back, eyes still on Giles, before he turned towards the kitchen.

"Was it before or after you paid off the house that Buffy forgave you?"

Hank paused briefly and then kept walking.


	16. Chapter Sixteen

By "Painbow"

Summary: Buffy's dad returns; S6, post DoubleMeat Palace

Slightly Updated Summary: Giles is back, jealous, and trying to find a way to earn back Buffy's trust.

Disclaimer: Still not my characters.

A/N: Sorry about the lateness, again. Essays, exams,and some RL issues that needed to take priority.

Again, hugs and smooches to spikeNdru for the beta.

* * *

**Chapter 16**

Giles fumed as he adjusted his suit in the mirror. He was lucky to get a crack at the bathroom, what with two young women in the house. No tux tonight, rehearsal dinner and all, so he'd put on a rather expensive suit he'd bought on a trip to London.

_Could have paid for the mortgage on the Summers residence, _said an inner voice. But, no. That was the coward's way out. That was the weakling's way out. That was the Hank Summers way out.

Did the man truly not know when to set a child—no—young woman on her feet and let her find her own way in the world? Did the man really think that people should be coddled until they were thirty? Did he really think that buying back his daughter's love was the way to forgiveness?

But deep down, Giles knew. He knew that all the excess venom was because he felt guilty. Dawn had said it: they hadn't been better off without him. And all the things he'd seen pointed to her being right. Buffy did seem better then she had when he had left. Not that he could formulate his own opinion on the subject, considering the startling proficiency Buffy had for avoiding him. He honestly didn't know why he was surprised. He'd seen her avoidance tactics many times before.

He had great hopes for tonight. If he could steer clear of The Wanker and stick close to Buffy he should be able to get her to open up. He'd used that method before, although not, admittedly, when she'd been this furious with him. Furious was probably the wrong word. Her anger was more of a simmer then an outright boil…

* * *

Buffy fumed at the mirror. Well, she _primped_ in the mirror, but she was fuming the whole time. It was a general fume, all encompassing, but leading back to one source: Giles.

Dawn stood next to her sister, putting on her earrings and judging Buffy's mood. Time for some distracting babble. Buffy looked ready to pop.

"So, Spike looked terrible this morning…"

Irritation flashed across Buffy's face, which found good company in the rage already present. "He's lucky he did. It's the only reason he's not dusty."

Dawn rolled her eyes. "C'mon, Buffy. The I'm Gonna Dust Spike routine is getting old, especially now that you two have dated."

Buffy looked horrified. "We did not!"

Dawn was confused. "But…" She watched as Buffy's face turned red. "Oh." She stared in the mirror for a second, organizing her thoughts. "You know, it's less…it's…I wouldn't be more ashamed of dating him. It's better to say that you dated him."

Buffy smiled a little. "You've got a bad mental picture."

"Yup. Uh huh. Definitely."

Buffy grinned. And then turned red. "Um…please stop having it now."

Dawn grimaced. "Wish I could." She searched desperately for a subject change. "So Spike this morning…"

Buffy latched on to anything that would remove the embarrassment. "Yeah, he looked awful. At first I though he'd just tried his best to get Dad drunk because he wanted to watch something funny, but he was actually pretty gone too, and he looked…not good."

"Yeah, he sort of mumbled something to me when he left. I think it was 'nibblet'. And then Dad tried to talk to me about the Evils of Alcohol, which was just really awkward. He was so embarrassed the whole time. I wouldn't want him to give me a sex talk." Dawn's eyes grew wide. "Oh, god! You don't think he's gonna give me a sex talk, do you?"

Buffy grimaced at the thought. "He'd probably ask me to do it."

They both reflected on how awkward that would be before realizing that they'd managed to circle right back into dangerous conversation territory. Time for another topic change…

"So…" started Dawn. "Is Spike coming tonight? What with feeling 'not good' and all?"

"Xander invited him…no, wait, Anya invited him. Xander complained about Anya inviting him and she said, 'more guests means more valuable gifts, Xander," and he gave in…and had more chips." Buffy frowned. "I'm going to need to use slayer strength to get him into his cummerbund tomorrow. But I don't think he'll show tonight."

Dawn looked confused. "Xander?"

"Spike."

"Right," said Dawn, feeling stupid.

"It's not really Spike's thing, you know? Although, Xander's family is here and he does enjoy impromptu theatre…"

Dawn looked mournfully into the mirror. "Xander's family…"

* * *

Giles and Hank stood on opposite sides of the room, similar looks of horrified curiosity on their faces. It became very clear to Giles why he'd never met Xander's family before today...well, except for his mother. The woman had spent most of the time plying him with raspberry punch. Hank stared as he sipped his drink. He was amazed that the boy was able to function in society at all.

They both glowered as Mr. Harris' hands snaked their way towards Buffy's 'assets', and they both smirked when she politely and firmly shut him down, employing a little slayer strength on the offending hand. And they both winced when he threw up in her small, pinkish purse.

* * *

Buffy stared mournfully into her new bag. She'd been saving up to buy new clothes and accessories for the wedding. She'd have to burn it now. She looked up to see Giles give her a sympathetic look and smiled…until she remembered that she was angry with him. Her smile turned into a frown and she turned away.

He'd been trying to make contact with her all night. Dropping a comment or giving her a smile, expecting her to say something. She knew what he was doing. Classic Giles. He'd wait patiently until she was ready to start talking and then sit passively as she said what was bothering her.

Well, she wanted something other than the passive approach. A simple "listen to the problem, then say sorry" wasn't good enough. He's the one who didn't care enough to call and check up. Why should he be at all surprised that she was angry? Her father figure, abandoning her like that…

Buffy's eyes landed on Hank. He wasn't just a father figure... He'd come home because he though she'd needed help. Buffy smiled at him and headed over.

"Having fun, sweetie?" he asked, glancing over to the bar, where Mr. Harris was still ordering drinks.

Buffy followed his look and grimaced. "Poor Xander."

Hank nodded his agreement, a sympathetic look on his face. "Hey, sweetie?"

Buffy turned from where she was watching Mr. Harris berate the bartender for not making his drink a double. "Yeah, Dad?"

"I have to slip out a little early. Got a call from work. There are some problems cropping up now that I'm in Sunnydale."

Buffy tried not to look worried. She trusted her Dad to come back. He'd proven himself…right?

"Alright, Dad. I'll see you tomorrow for the wedding…"

"I sure hope so," said Hank smiling. "See you, sweetie."

Giles came over as Buffy watched her dad leave the rehearsal dinner.

"Where's he off to?"

Buffy detected a note of…something. Jealousy? Snark? She shoved away any misgivings.

"Work. He'll be back tomorrow."

She walked away to talk to Dawn, leaving Giles to grind his teeth in frustration.

* * *

The gavel banged on the desk. Giles placed it on the table and allowed his eyes to travel the room.

"I call to order the meeting of the men that have been a part of Buffy's life. I'm pleased to see that everyone made it."

"Wouldn't miss it," said Parker, giving the room a charming smile.

"It was hard to get here from South America, but these meetings are important. We need to meet and plan these things." Riley glared at Parker, gripping his gun. Despite his words he was clearly not happy to see _everyone_ in the room.

"Then lets get started," said Hank, rubbing his hands together. "We need to figure out how we're going to meddle with Buffy's life."

Spike sneered. "Someone's anxious. Just have to wait for the secretary."

"I'm here." The room turned to look at Buffy. She sat in the corner, fuming, and yet she didn't seem to be able to say anything more. She just sat, note pad, glasses perched on her nose, and some kind of drug store hair clip giving her that corporate up-do.

"Good! Let's get started." Angel materialized from the shadows in the corner of the room and sat down beside Parker, also glaring at the boy.

"Now," began Giles, "all in favor of Buffy returning to school, say 'Aye'."

There was a chorus of 'ayes' from the room.

_But I was going to go back anyway!_ Buffy tried to say it out loud, but there was something stopping her.

"All those in favor of Buffy getting a normal boyfriend and living a normal life say 'Aye'."

Another chorus of 'ayes,' with an extra loud one from Xander and Angel, while Buffy struggled against her inability to talk.

"And," Giles continued, "All those in favor of leaving because we know best, say 'Aye'."

"Aye!" came the chorus again, and Buffy could do nothing but take the minutes.

Suddenly Giles was next to her. "You know this is for the best, Buffy. I wish we could stay, but…this really is for the best." He walked out of the room, leaving it empty, and Buffy suddenly found herself able to stand. She chased Giles out the door and found herself in the Bronze.

The club was crowded, and she pushed her way through people, trying to find Giles.

"Dad!" she called.

"Yes?" said a man who looked like Giles, followed closely by one who resembled Hank.

Another man who resembled Hank turned around. "What is it, sweetie?"

"Can I do something for you, Buffy?" said a Giles-clone.

Suddenly Buffy was surrounded by men who looked like either Giles or Hank, all asking her if she was all right.

"Yes!" she screamed. "I'm fine! Leave me alone!"

All the men looked taken aback, and suddenly they, too, were gone.

Buffy whirled, searching the club frantically. She saw something over by the door, a hunched figure at a table. She approached it, grabbing the shoulder. The figure looked up at her, the face indiscernible. Sometimes it was Giles, sometimes Hank.

"Dad?"

The figure settled on Giles. "No, no I suppose not, although it felt that way."

"Why did you go?"

"I didn't."

Buffy's mouth became a thin line.

"I suppose I did," conceded Giles. "But it was only for you, Buffy. To get away from you. You really are quite trying."

Buffy gaped. The figure became Hank.

"I mean, who wants to deal with that? A teen who always gets into trouble and, lets face it, an adult who's no fun." The figure became Giles again. "You know, Buffy, you keep searching for the reason why men leave. Have you ever thought it was you?"

And suddenly she was alone again. She walked slowly to the door of the Bronze and found herself in the desert, looking out at an endless landscape. Ahead of her stretched a trail of footprints. She was about to follow them when she felt a hand clap on her shoulder. She whirled around, arms in a fighting stance.

"Buffy?"

"Oh, sorry, Dawnie." Buffy shook her head and sat up. She wasn't in the desert anymore, but her room.

"C'mon, Buffy. If you don't get up now we'll never be ready in time."

Buffy sat in her bed for a moment longer. "Right."


	17. Chapter Seventeen

Disclaimer: Yes, I AM Joss, nice to make your aquaintance. . .whaddya mean he's a guy?

A/N: Thanks again tospikeNdru for the fantabulous beta! Couldn't have done it without you, hun! smooches

Also: I am a feedback whore. Please, feed my addiction...

* * *

**Chapter 17**

Dawn was feeling pretty good about this wedding. Yes, she had to wear possibly the most disgusting bridesmaid dress in the history of the world, but, hey, at least she got to be a bridesmaid. Still…green? What was Anya thinking? And the ruffles…

She'd been a little anxious that morning. Buffy had looked all weird while their dad was away on business, but he'd come back right when they were about to leave for the wedding. Dawn had to admit that she couldn't help the little internal voice from saying, "Is he coming back?" but she also trusted her dad now…which was weird. She hadn't trusted him in a while. She hadn't actually trusted any guy but Xander and Spike in a for some time, because after what guys put her sister through, who wanted one? So, trusting her dad…it was a new thing.

Dawn watched her dad try to make conversation with one of Xander's relatives, and smiled. Things were almost as good as they had been before her mom died. Buffy was doing better, even if she had a ways to go on learning how to let Dawn grow up. Eleven o'clock curfew? Puh-leeze. But Buffy had gotten a phone call this morning: a second interview for a job as a receptionist, and the happy was contagious. It had been too long since Buffy had genuinely smiled. It was nice to see.

Giles walked in and her smile faded a bit. She didn't know what to think about him. Intellectually she knew that she should forgive him and move on. He did what he thought was best, even though it was incredibly stupid and jerky and. . .she'd work on it. She was still mad and he still had ground to make up.

Dawn couldn't help but feel like Giles had left her too. Fine, Buffy needed to stand on her own feet, but. . .Dawn was. . .still a minor! And. . .her sister had been all depressed and not ready to take care of a minor! Why didn't he think that someone other than Buffy looked up to him? Giles had been the closest thing Dawn had to a father for a long time, even if he was technically Buffy's watcher and probably didn't think of her as anything other than Buffy's annoying little sister who made him angry and disappointed and. . .on second thought, maybe it wasn't surprising that he left. Dawn forced that thought away. That stuff didn't matter to family, did it? She'd been annoying to Buffy plenty of times and Buffy had stuck around. And what about Willow? She hadn't been annoying and she'd needed Giles and he hadn't been there. It was Giles' job to take care of them! The day the Scoobies had formed he'd ceased to be just Buffy's watcher.

A small part of Dawn thought it wasn't fair to lump all that responsibility on one man. He wasn't related, he wasn't beholden, but he was loved. Maybe that was why it had hurt so much.

She saw Spike swagger in and turned her thoughts to more weddingy stuff. She could sit down with Giles, yell at him, rant at him, be sullen at him, and then hug him later. Today was Xander's day and she'd promised him she'd keep Spike from doing anything too "Spike-ish", since, according to Xander, Spike was able to spontaneously ruin things simply by being there.

* * *

Spike stood just inside the entrance to the Bison Lodge where Harris' wedding was being held, and why was he here again? He saw the bar, which Xander had said was open. That'd teach Xander to try to keep information from interested parties while the interested parties were in the next room and had vampire hearing. Well, that was one reason, at least. The second made itself known when Dawn came over and smiled.

"Spike! So, your hangover didn't prevent you from coming to this part of the wedding, then?" She was grinning.

Spike raised an eyebrow.

"C'mon!" she said. "Lets go get some food. There's a whole table of these little crab things."

Spike scanned the room for Xander. "Sure, bit. I'll be right there." His eyes finally landed on Xander talking to an older man. "I just want to give my congrats to Harris first."

Spike sauntered over to Xander. The boy looked upset, which Spike couldn't blame him for, considering the guests.

Xander shook his head at the older man and looked ready to snap. Spike had an internal battle with himself over whether he should let Harris go ape in front of all his guests, or intervene, when the boy pushed away from the older man. Spike came up next to him and stood a little awkwardly, wishing he had a wall to lean on.

"Congrats, Harris. Try not to bollocks it up."

Xander was preoccupied. "Yeah, sure."

Spike rolled his eyes at the response. "Harris, some free wedding advice…"

Xander shook his head frantically and looked horrified.

Spike sighed. "Not _that_ kind of advice, you twit. Anyanka's already told me you're a Viking in th' sack." Spike smirked as Xander's face became even more horrified.

"Look, my advice: don' piss off any of Anyanka's side of the family. Like that old guy you were talkin' to. They're vengeance demons for a reason. Of course, whatever they did to you _would_ make this wedding a lot less boring."

Xander looked as if he were about to say something sarcastic and then he stopped, frowning. "Wait…you know that old guy?"

"Him?" asked Spike, gesturing to the man Xander had been talking to. "No. But all the demons are on Anya's side, right?"

"Wait…he's a demon?"

Spike gave him a blank look. "Yeah."

Xander looked furious. "He said he was me. Tried to get me to go into the back room with him. I don't even _want_ to know…"

Spike cocked an eyebrow. "Right. Wanted to get in on your last bit of bachelor freedom."

Xander grimaced. "Just get Buffy to toss him out, alright?"

Xander turned to sort out two of his cousins who were fighting over the last crab puff.

* * *

Anya was in the back room, getting ready. Xander had to cling to that, as he roamed the room, trying to sort out the various fights that were breaking out all over. "Carnies" versus the Harrises. Xander had a twenty on Aunt Flora.

They should have eloped.

Xander suddenly went cold. Why did that thought chill him to the core? No family, no fights, no drunken speeches from his father. And yet. . .

Xander's eyes landed on Hank. What if he turned out like that? What if he became the guy who left? He looked at Giles. The man had once been a kind of role model, although Xander would never have admitted it in high school, because librarians? Not up there with secret agents on the cool meter. But he'd turned out to be no better than Hank. He'd been a father and he'd left. . .unlike his own, who'd just stayed, bottle in hand, his whole life. Xander looked at his Dad, standing by the bar. The epitome of everything he feared becoming. What if he ended up treating Anya the way his dad treated mom?

He felt trapped, like the walls and the guests were closing in. His tie felt like it was choking him, his cummerbund like it was a size too small (which technically it was, but he'd been ignoring it nicely until now). His eyes darted to a door. He didn't really care where it led. It led _out_.

He cut across the floor towards his salvation. Hank stepped in front of him. He reached out a hand.

"I know you're not my biggest fan, Xander, but I still want to say congratulations. Anya's a wonderful girl. You two will be very happy."

Xander was speaking before his brain caught up with his mouth. "This from the guy who left his wife and kids?"

Hank paused and Xander flinched internally. True as it may be, starting an argument wouldn't help him get to the door.

Hank flinched a little himself. "Marrying Joyce and leaving her were two different things. Even though I left, I don't regret. . . Things change and there's never any guarantee that the person you started out with is the one you'll be with in the end, but you'll never know if. . ." Hank petered out again. He looked like he was having a hard time finding his words. "We had a lot of good years together. Sometimes I wish we could have made it work." He smiled. "God, I'm starting to sound like a sap. Congrats again, Xander." He clasped Xander's shoulder for a moment before moving on.

Xander took a deep breath. 'Thought of the Day' care of Hank Summers. Nice. He began moving towards the door again. Something else blocked him.

"Xander, can I have a word?"

Xander sighed. "Sure, G-man." The door never looked so far away. The room never felt so small and crowded.

Giles pulled him into an out-of-the-way corner. "Is something wrong?"

Xander felt even more like a caged animal. 'Yes!' he wanted to shout. 'Get me the HELL out of here!' But he knew Giles wouldn't understand.

"What could possibly be wrong? Best day of my life." Xander knew he wasn't convincing. He just hoped that his assurances were enough for Giles.

Giles regarded Xander for a moment. Sweating, nervous twitching, darting eyes. Xander was trying to find a way out, and Giles knew that if he did he would have nothing but regrets later.

Mr. Harris stood up again to make another toast, this one harder to understand than the Ode to Mrs. Harris. Giles noticed Xander's eyes fix on his father, fear and resignation on his face. Ahhh…

"Xander," he got the boy's attention. "You are not your father. It's remarkable that you turned out how you did with him raising you. You will make mistakes, as the past illustrates nicely, but don't let this be one of them."

Xander looked guilty for a second. "But what if we end up like them?" His eyes turned to his mother, embarrassed, weak, hurt, and on her sixth drink herself. Anya should never have to experience that.

Giles sighed and hoped he could get through to the young man. "Look, Xander, it may not work between you, but you'll never find out by running."

Giles turned and made his way to the center of the room, glancing back to see what Xander was doing.

Xander's face showed the battle raging within. After a few moments a look of determination settled on his features, and Giles was completely disappointed when Xander turned and walk purposefully to the door.

* * *

Xander had made a deal with himself: he needed a sign. Nothing fancy. Any sign would do at this point. So he'd decided. . .the door. He didn't really know where it went. In his panic he could have picked the door to any part of the building. So, if the door led to unobstructed freedom he was going to walk through and never look back. If the door led elsewhere. . .

He reached for the doorknob. Moment of truth. He paused for a moment. Was he ready for the answer? What if the door led away from all this? Could he really leave Anya? He loved her. . .and he would end up so very smite'd. Her entire guest list was in Vengeance.

He took a deep breath and turned the doorknob.

A broom fell out and hit him in the head.

He laughed. Janitor's closet! He turned back towards the room full of guests, ignored his father, and tried to calmly talk with Krevlin, who was determinedly avoiding Aunt Marge. He still had doubts. He was still nervous. He still wasn't sure he was doing the right thing. . .he was still. . .new line of thought time, he decided. It was time to see what was next.


End file.
